


where every mask cracks

by l_tales



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Bond (Star Wars), M/M, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Suited Darth Vader, Suitless Darth Vader, Top Anakin Skywalker, Touch-Starved, Vaderwan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_tales/pseuds/l_tales
Summary: Four years after the birth of the Galactic Empire, Obi-Wan approaches Darth Vader with an offer he doesn't expect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授权翻译】面具碎裂之地 where every mask cracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22999882) by [Silent_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Moon/pseuds/Silent_Moon)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Где спадает всякая маска](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522832) by [Nadis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadis/pseuds/Nadis)

> This can be considered a sequel to When the Abyss Stares Back at You, but it can be read as a stand-alone story. 
> 
> By the way, I absolutely recommend watching the fanvid [The Chosen One](https://youtu.be/wk0bRElYuXk) before reading this. That fanvid largely inspired this story.

* * *

Darth Vader stood on the bridge of his flagship, staring at the billions of distant stars.

The bridge was quiet.

It was so quiet that the sound of Vader's respirator seemed abnormally loud.

There was no sound in the universe Vader hated more than this unnatural, artificially steady sound, loud and controlled, one that had accompanied his every moment for the past four years.

The other people on the bridge probably shared that opinion, considering that they all seemed to stop breathing altogether, afraid to attract the attention of the resident monster.

Vader's scarred lips twisted behind his mask. Their terror was almost amusing. Almost.

Someone behind him cleared their throat, the sound painfully awkward and timid. "Lord Vader? There's an incoming transmission for you. It's Commander Derix from the Outer Rim Delta Fleet. He says it's urgent."

Vader turned his head. A mere commander--one he barely knew--wouldn't bother him without a very good reason. "Forward it to my personal comlink."

"Yes, sir."

Vader entered the command center that adjoined the bridge. "Leave."

The two officers in the room hurried out of it, their gazes downcast.

Vader felt a pang of what could have been wistfulness--if he allowed himself to feel such foolish emotions. It was Skywalker who had liked inspiring respect in his troops. Vader found fear far preferable. Fear was useful. Fear was the reason why that commander was reporting to him first instead of going to Sidious.

He activated his comlink.

The vaguely familiar face of Commander Derix appeared in front of him. He was grinning--a rare sight in Vader's presence.

"Lord Vader, I'm delighted to report that we caught the Jedi you've been looking for."

Before Vader could say anything, the holo camera moved to the person bound to the chair.

For a moment, Vader thought his respirator stopped working, his chest going tight from lack of air.

"Caught is something of an exaggeration," the Jedi said in his familiar Coruscanti accent. "I came here myself."

Vader stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi for a long moment before looking at the commander. "Bring him to me."

***

In the past four years, Vader had imagined killing Kenobi in hundreds different ways, each more elaborate and sadistic than another. He'd imagined beheading him, imagined Force-choking him, imagined torturing him, imagined choking him with his metal hands--ones that he had because he had _no real limbs_ anymore thanks to that man. He imagined Kenobi's pitiful whimpers as Vader used various torture methods on him before cutting off his every limb, one after another, and then setting him on fire until Kenobi was a broken mess of pain and despair, barely hanging onto his life.

He had imagined a great many things he would do to Kenobi.

Perhaps that was why the reality of having Kenobi thrown at Vader's feet was absolutely surreal.

"Here he is, Lord Vader." The commander sounded smug, eager.

Vader didn't even glance at him. "You will be rewarded later. Leave us."

He waited until they were alone in the room before yanking Kenobi's head up with the Force.

For the first time in the past four years, Vader felt grateful for the helmet that hid his face, because he wasn't sure he would have managed to hide his surprise.

When he'd imagined torturing or killing Kenobi, the traitor always looked like his old, impeccably groomed self in his mind. Kenobi had always been secretly quite vain, his hair clean and shiny and his beard groomed to perfection. Granted, during the Clone Wars, Kenobi's standards had slipped a little--he had cut his hair shorter for convenience's sake and his beard wasn't as well-groomed as it had been in the past--but he still looked impeccable compared to the mess Skywalker had looked like.

This Kenobi looked... different, and it had nothing to do with Vader's vision being impaired by his damaged retinas.

This Kenobi's hair was as long as it had been before the Clone Wars, but it looked uneven and unkempt. He also looked a great deal older, older than he should have. He seemed to have aged ten years instead of four.

It wasn't just Kenobi's physical appearance that surprised him. Kenobi felt weaker in the Force, much weaker than he had been.

For a moment, Vader contemplated the possibility of this man not being Kenobi at all, but someone who'd just assumed his identity like Kenobi had once assumed Rako Hardeen's.

No. He knew it was Kenobi. He would recognize that Force signature anywhere, no matter how much dimmer it now was.

"Hello, Anakin," Kenobi said softly.

Vader glared at him. "That name means nothing for me," he said, glad that his voice modulator didn't betray the unsteadiness of his voice.

Kenobi's gaze was searching as it roamed over Vader.

He looked... uncertain.

"What?" Vader snapped. "The suit isn't to your liking? Did you want to see my burned flesh? I think you saw plenty of it already while you watched me burn alive."

Kenobi looked stricken.

Vader relished that look. He didn't often think of himself as Anakin Skywalker, but that moment of pure agony as he burned alive was the one he'd shared with the boy Kenobi had raised.

_Help me_, Skywalker had almost said, looking desperately at his Master, still foolishly believing that Kenobi would never abandon him. But Kenobi had done nothing--just watched him burn before turning around and leaving.

That was ultimately the moment Darth Vader had been born, the moment the last remnants of the Light had been extinguished from Skywalker's soul--not when he had betrayed Windu, not when Sidious had given him that name, and not even when he had raised his lightsaber against the Jedi younglings--but when he was betrayed and abandoned by the Jedi who had raised him since he was a small boy. Even when Skywalker had been angry at Kenobi, he hadn't really thought that his Master would ever abandon him.

_Don't make me kill you_, Skywalker had told Kenobi, his back to him, because he had still _trusted_ Kenobi not to stab him in the back, trusted him to never betray him. Only when Kenobi had said that his allegiance was with the Republic, had Skywalker managed to raise his lightsaber against that man. Later, when he lept for the high ground Kenobi stood on, he hadn't really believed that Kenobi would ruthlessly cut him in half. That was why he had made that leap; not because he didn't know that he was at a disadvantage. The humiliating, cringe-worthy truth was: he hadn't really thought that his Master would ever maim him.

Foolish.

Pathetic.

Kenobi had taken that trust and stomped all over it.

That was ultimately why Vader didn't think of himself as Skywalker anymore. Anakin Skywalker had died on Mustafar when his Master turned his back to him and left him to die an agonizing, slow death. Darth Vader emerged out of his ashes.

"Anakin," Kenobi said tightly. "I thought you were gone. Yoda told me that you were gone, consumed by Vader."

Vader clenched his fist and Force-shoved the Jedi against the wall, slamming him hard. "Stop calling me Anakin," he hissed. "He died when you betrayed him."

"Me?" Kenobi said, incredulous. "You killed the Jedi, Anakin! You killed your brothers and sisters! You killed _children_!"

"Brothers and sisters?" Vader grated out. "The Jedi never thought of me as part of their precious family. You can't betray someone who doesn't trust you. They got what they deserved, but you--I never betrayed you." He hated that he was once again thinking of himself as Skywalker, but it seemed it was impossible not to, when he was around this man. "I never betrayed you. I gave you an opportunity to leave or join me, even though Sidious ordered me to kill all Jedi on sight."

Kenobi stared at him strangely, as if it was something that had never even _occurred_ to him, as if Vader was speaking a language he didn't understand.

"You betrayed me when you knelt in front of a Sith Lord and called him Master," Kenobi croaked out, his eyes glinting with moisture. "Do you have any idea how that made me--" He cut himself off, looking away.

Vader paused. He wanted to scoff and dismiss Kenobi's words, but he could sense the pain and betrayal that emanated from Kenobi in the Force. It really _had_ hurt the man, hurt him far more than it should have. Kenobi's pain felt personal.

Kenobi closed his eyes, as if not wanting Vader see his pain--as if he were ashamed of it.

Of course, that only made Vader fixate on it. "You're ashamed," he said, walking closer. He cocked his head, studying Kenobi intently. Obi-Wan looked so small. Fragile. Broken. He was all _wrong_. It was... annoying. "Why did it affect you so much?"

Kenobi swallowed, his eyes still closed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Vader clenched his fist, tightening the Force-grip around Kenobi's throat. "Answer me. Why did it bother you so much? Why did you feel betrayed?"

Gasping for breath, Kenobi opened his eyes and finally looked at him. Glared. "You were mine," he croaked out. "_My_ apprentice, not his. Seeing you kneel in front of Sidious and call him Master was--it felt like you stabbed me in the stomach and twisted the knife. That's why I believed that you were gone--that my Anakin would never do it."

Vader could only stare at him, his Force-grip on Kenobi's throat going slack.

What Kenobi was admitting was... it was against everything the Jedi believed in. Kenobi was basically admitting that his attachment to Skywalker had made him possessive, that it made him feel like Skywalker had betrayed him first by calling a Sith his Master. It seemed the problem wasn't even that Skywalker had betrayed Kenobi's _teachings_\--though it was undoubtedly part of it--Kenobi felt personally betrayed. Betrayed in the same way a person would feel betrayed by their spouse's infidelity.

Vader shook off the unsettling thought. Kenobi's words didn't change anything.

"I called Sidious my Master because unlike you, he actually wanted to help me," he said with a scoff. "He promised me to save Padmé--"

"And how did that work out?" Kenobi said. "He lied to you. You should have realized it by now."

Vader glared at him. "Of course I have. And he will pay for his lies, just like the Jedi Council did." Truth be told, the only thing stopping him from getting rid of Sidious was the fact that...Vader couldn't be bothered. Doing as Sidious said, being the Emperor's fist was easier than summoning motivation to kill Sidious. Sure, he could probably kill Sidious, but what for? To rule the Empire? He would be still confined to this metal suit, he would still lead the same miserable life. It seemed more trouble than it was worth. As long as Sidious didn't annoy him too much, there was little point in changing the status quo. His child and his wife were dead. He didn't have anyone to protect from Sidious. The title of an Emperor was of no use to him when he was barely living to enjoy its perks.

"I always wanted to help you," Obi-Wan said, averting his gaze. "I just wasn't sure you wanted my help. You didn't even tell me about your marriage. You didn't trust me at all."

Vader felt a flicker of something that might have been guilt. He smothered it. Kenobi didn't deserve it.

"And why should I have, after you lied to me time after time?" Vader gritted out. "You betrayed my trust first. You lied to me even about your _death_\--and don't you dare claim that it was nothing!" He hated that even his voice modulator didn't seem to fully hide the emotional tightness of his voice.

And Kenobi didn't seem to have missed it, either.

Something changed in Kenobi's expression. "Anakin?" he said in a wavering voice, lifting his hand to Vader's helmet. "It really is you?"

Vader's respirator seemed to be malfunctioning. His damaged lungs felt too tight.

"You've been calling me by that name since you got here," Vader managed. "Why are you suddenly acting like you've just made a discovery?"

Kenobi's unsteady hand touched the mask--what would have been Vader's cheek if it were flesh. Kenobi swallowed, his eyes glistening. "He told me that you were still Anakin, but I didn't truly believe it."

Vader didn't know why he was still tolerating this--why Kenobi wasn't writhing on the floor in agony--but he didn't seem to be able to push him away. His mechanical limbs didn't seem to listen to the commands of his brain at all.

"He?" Vader said, glaring at this infuriating, manipulative traitor. Kenobi was clearly trying to trick him, to manipulate him, to use Skywalker's old weakness--

"The Obi-Wan from another dimension--one in which I couldn't bring myself to do my duty on Mustafar. In that dimension, you're the Emperor and I'm something of a pet for you." Kenobi dropped his gaze before looking back at him. "And that other Anakin isn't a Sith anymore."

"You're a fool if you think I'll believe your tricks, old man."

Kenobi sighed. "It's not a trick. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true. It's a long story." He put his other hand on Vader's mask, his gaze intent and infinitely sad at the same time. "Anakin--"

Vader glowered at him and shoved Kenobi away, slamming his hard against the wall. "Enough of this nonsense. Why are you here? You said you allowed yourself to get caught. Why?"

Kenobi's gaze looked dazed for a moment, probably from the pain, before focusing on Vader. "I can give you your healthy body back."

Vader looked at him blankly. Of all Kenobi's possible lies, this was the one he expected the least. "Your lies are transparent, my former Master."

"You know I would never lie to you about such things."

Vader was this close to just choking the life out of him. How dare he. He dare he lie to him again.

"Do you take me for a gullible fool?" he said, clenching his fist and shoving Kenobi against the wall again.

Kenobi grunted in pain. "Listen to me! When did I ever lie to you, Anakin? Besides the Rako Hardeen mission?"

Vader laughed. It was an ugly, jarring sound even through the voice modulator. "You lied to me all my life. You made me believe that you were--that you were on my side, that you'd never betray me, but then you cut off my limbs and left me to burn alive! Isn't that the ultimate lie?"

Kenobi swallowed. "I did my duty," he said tonelessly.

"To whom?" Vader snarled, his damaged lungs screaming in pain as shouted. "To a bunch of old hypocrites in the Council? Why were they more important to you than _me_?"

Kenobi's jaw worked. "Why should you be the most important person for me when I wasn't one for you? I begged the Council to let me train you, I _begged_ and _groveled_ for their permission, and I gave you the best years of my life to teach you everything I knew--and what did you repay me with? By marrying Senator Amidala and lying to me all the time, kneeling for a Sith Lord, and slaughtering the only family I've ever had. What did you expect, Anakin? That I'll hug you on Mustafar and tell you that everything will be all right?"

_Yes_.

The instinctive answer that nearly left his lips shook Vader to his core. Yes, he had expected that his Master would be angry and disappointed at first, but he had never really expected that their duel on Mustafar would end the way it did. Obi-Wan had _always_ forgiven him for everything with a long-suffering, exasperated "_Anakin_." Anything else had seemed unthinkable.

His silence must be telling, because Kenobi's expression changed. "Oh, Anakin," he said with a sigh. He looked an improbable mix of sad, horrified, angry, and...fond?

Vader told himself he was imagining it. No one was fond of Darth Vader. The only emotion he could inspire in people was fear--which was what he wanted.

He didn't need Kenobi's affection.

He didn't need Kenobi, period.

He never needed him.

_Liar_, a voice said at the back of his mind. _You needed him when you were a small boy who crawled into his bed when you missed your mother, you needed him when you were a teenager who got an erection every time he smiled at you, and you needed him when you were a married man, still craving his affection and touch and feeling guilty about it._

Vader's jaw clenched. No. It was Skywalker who had needed Kenobi, not him.

He wasn't Anakin Skywalker.

He glared at that infuriating, traitorous man, hating him and hating himself for this weakness. What was wrong with him? He'd wanted revenge for _years_.

Switching his comlink on, Vader said, "Take the prisoner to the brig." But as soon as he said that, paranoia crept in. Knowing Kenobi's silver tongue, he might convince the guard to release him. He might escape. Or some overeager Imperial officer might decide that the Emperor's favor was more important than Darth Vader's wrath and give Kenobi to Sidious. Anger boiled in his chest at the mere thought. Kenobi was his--his to torture and do whatever he wanted. He would never allow Sidious anywhere near him. "No. I rescind the order."

_"Yes, Lord Vader,"_ the Commander said, not quite hiding his surprise.

"I will personally ensure that the prisoner doesn't escape," Vader said. "_No one_ is to know that he is on my ship." There was no need to say what would happen to a traitor who failed to comply with his orders.

He heard the man swallow. "_Yes, Lord Vader._"

When he switched his comlink off, he found Kenobi watching him with a strange expression.

"What?" he grated out, his respirator breathing harsh and loud in the silent room.

Kenobi said quietly, "I'm not going to try to escape. I won't leave again, Anakin."

His chest tight for _no karking reason_, Vader could only glare at him before striding out of the room.

He could always kill Kenobi tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

* * *

After seven days as a prisoner, Obi-Wan had to admit that the great and terrible Darth Vader hadn't been living up to his reputation so far.

When he had decided on this course of action, Obi-Wan had been well aware that it would most likely end in his slow and painful death.

He had _expected_ to be tortured. Vader's "interrogations" were legendary in the Empire for their cruelty, and considering who Obi-Wan was, he had expected that he would be treated far worse than your average Republic sympathizer.

Well, so far, it appeared he was wrong.

Vader didn't mistreat him beyond shoving him around and light Force-choking. Those were a child's play compared to the horror stories people told about Vader's torture methods.

So, understandably, Obi-Wan was rather perplexed.

Or he would be perplexed if another emotion hadn't completely overshadowed his confusion: hope. Painful, irrational hope.

Obi-Wan could think of only one reason for why the Emperor's right hand didn't seem inclined to torture him: deep down, Vader _was_ Anakin. It seemed Master Yoda was wrong after all and Anakin really wasn't gone.

Perhaps there was still hope for him.

The sound of the door unlocking tore Obi-Wan away from his musings. Obi-Wan didn't even have to stretch out his awareness to find out who it was. Vader was the only one who ever visited him in his cell.

He was proven correct when the tall, black-clad figure entered the room.

Obi-Wan sat up straighter, watching Vader approach, the sound of Vader's respirator the only sound in the room.

Truth be told, that sound unnerved Obi-Wan greatly. It drove the point home that under that intimidating black armor, there was a barely living human being, one that couldn't even breathe without assistance--one who was in that state because of him, Obi-Wan.

Whenever he let himself think that it was _Anakin_, his own padawan, the unease shifted into pain, guilt, and grief.

How had they come to this? When had it all gone wrong? How could a kind, bright-eyed boy who had once been brimming with life and light become this barely living dark creature of hatred and pain?

It seemed unthinkable.

That was why Obi-Wan had trouble thinking of that armored creature as his former padawan: they were complete opposites of each other.

Anakin's every emotion had been written on his face; Vader gave nothing away because of his mask. Anakin's voice was smooth and expressive, a voice Obi-Wan knew better than his own; Vader's voice was transformed unrecognizably by his voice modulator. Although Anakin had been quite tall, Vader was far taller, since his metal legs were longer than Anakin's real ones had been. Even Vader's Force signature barely resembled Anakin's: it seemed completely distorted, emanating darkness, anger, and pain--physical pain that seemed to be a constant companion for Vader.

Rationally, Obi-Wan _knew_ Vader was Anakin. He even addressed him as Anakin. But there had been only a few moments when he'd actually believed it, moments he saw a glimpse of something painfully familiar in Vader. Each time, it took Obi-Wan aback, hitting him anew that it was _Anakin_ he was talking to.The boy he'd raised, trained, and loved more than he should have--or perhaps loved not enough.

"I have a question for you," Vader said.

Obi-Wan simply nodded, feeling curious. This was new. Vader usually threatened him and demanded that he reveal his true motives; he didn't ask questions.

"Since you persist with your lies," Vader said. "Let's say I believed you. _If_ I did, what were you hoping to achieve by coming here?"

Obi-Wan frowned, not following. "I don't understand."

Vader made an irritated sound that made something in Obi-Wan's heart clench. It reminded him painfully of Anakin's exasperated huffs.

"Why would you want to give a Sith Lord a healthy body?" Vader gritted out, the bite in his voice apparent even through his voice modulator. "You're the one who maimed me. Don't tell me you regret it. I won't believe you."

Unable to look at that black mask any longer, Obi-Wan dropped his gaze.

He clasped his hands in his lap and, looking at them with an unseeing gaze, said quietly, "Watching you burn and doing nothing to help you was the most difficult thing I've ever done." Obi-Wan's chest grew tight as he relived it once again... watching that beloved face burn, Anakin's agony, hatred, and terror in the Force. Obi-Wan swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. "It was against my every instinct. I stopped myself from helping you only by reminding myself that you--the boy I trained--was already lost, that you weren't really Anakin. And even then, I couldn't bring myself to follow Yoda's orders and kill you. I took the cowardly option: I left, unable to watch you die." He had left part of himself on Mustafar that day, too.

Over the years, as the horror tales of Darth Vader spread throughout the galaxy, Obi-Wan wondered if he would have dealt the killing blow if he knew what Anakin would become.The worst part was, he still wasn't sure he would have managed to do it.

Realizing that Vader had said nothing, Obi-Wan lifted his gaze. He found Vader staring at him--at least his gaze seemed to be on him. It was hard to tell with the helmet.

"You still didn't answer my question," Vader grated out.

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. "Because there isn't a simple answer for your question, Anakin." Something in his chest tightened at that name, a name that was once the most precious and dear to him, and now something forbidden and bittersweet. "Rationally, I know I shouldn't regret what I did--you deserved no mercy after murdering innocent children. But..." Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek, despising himself for feeling this way but unable to do anything about it. "But what my rational mind says is quite different from...how I feel. It is...difficult for me, Anakin. I can't help but think that killing you would have been more merciful than what happened to you. But I couldn't do it, either." Obi-Wan's lips twisted into a humorless smile. "My attachments have always been my greatest weakness."

Vader took a step closer, and then another.

Obi-Wan wondered if it was just his imagination or if there really was something uncertain about him.

"You still haven't answered my question," Vader said harshly. "Why are you here? What did you hope to accomplish by letting yourself get caught? Are you foolish enough to think that I'll believe you and let you perform an unknown ritual on me?"

Obi-Wan hesitated before saying, "If you still don't trust my intentions, you can look into my mind. I won't be able to lie to you, especially with my connection to the Force weakened." Obi-Wan knew he was likely subjecting himself to mind torture, but it seemed there was no other choice. Frankly, he was surprised Vader hadn't attempted reading his mind already.

His suggestion seemed to...make Vader uneasy, if Obi-Wan was reading his emotions in the Force correctly.

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side, studying him curiously.

"You don't want to do it," he stated, his eyebrows going up.

Well, that was unexpected.

***

Vader glared at Kenobi, annoyed that the infuriating man could still read him despite the suit.

Annoyance. What an inadequate, pathetic feeling. He should feel nothing but hatred for Kenobi. Hatred had made him strong all these years, allowing him to draw from the Dark Side to give his scarred, weak body the much needed strength.

Without that hatred, he was nothing. Without that hatred, he didn't know who he was.

He still hated Kenobi, of course he did, but seeing him again--listening to his point of view--ruined everything. Now Kenobi could no longer be the personification of everything treacherous and evil, the impersonal villain that Vader could hate with all that was left of his body. Kenobi was a _person_ again, a broken man with sorrowful eyes--eyes that had once been full of light and affection whenever they looked at Vader.

No, not at Vader. At Skywalker. Ever since seeing Obi-Wan--_Kenobi_\--again, he seemed to be having trouble separating himself from Anakin Skywalker. He was Darth Vader, a Sith Lord and the Emperor's right hand. He wasn't the boy Kenobi had once raised and trained.

Except being around Kenobi was like picking at an old, badly healed wound: it brought fresh pain and anger, but it also brought unwanted memories of a time long gone, memories of being cared for by the same man he now hated. Memories of deep affection, of a kind Master that had once been his _world_, of good-natured, sarcastic banter and the countless occasions they'd saved each other's lives.

Kriff, it felt like he had a multiple personality disorder. One moment, all he wanted was to inflict unimaginable pain on Kenobi until the Jedi was sobbing and begging for forgiveness and mercy; the next, he wanted to fall to his knees in front of his Master and beg for _his_ forgiveness.

Damn it, Kenobi was _not_ his Master. The past was in the past. Kenobi was nothing to him. Nothing but a traitor. He'd betrayed him in the worst possible way, reducing him to this mockery of a life in a metal cage, Vader's hate-filled heart the only remotely healthy part of his body. It was all Kenobi's fault. He should torture him, and then kill him.

Vader clenched his metal fist, frustrated by his inability to fully convince himself of that. One might have thought that four years of being a Sith Lord would be enough to make him forget his old life--his old weakness--but on the other hand, of course it wasn't. He had managed to eradicate his other weakness--Skywalker's love for Padmé and guilt over her death--but Skywalker's attachment to Kenobi had been more deeply rooted than his marriage of a few years.

Thirteen formative years of living and fighting by Kenobi's side couldn't be as easily erased, even despite the monumental betrayal that ended that relationship. Kenobi was the one constant he--_Skywalker_\--had had since he left Tatooine as a boy; of course it was natural that he'd imprinted on his young Master. Kenobi had been too many things for him: a father figure when he was a boy, the object of a teenage crush when he was an adolescent, a brother in arms--and something more than that--when he was a man. Kenobi had been the one person that kept him grounded, even after he became a Knight.

Vader might hate the thought, but he had no delusions about it: Skywalker wouldn't have chosen the Dark Side had Kenobi been with him when he went to Palpatine. Being around Kenobi had always had a calming effect on Skywalker and cleared his mind from the noise, making him feel like there was nothing they couldn't accomplish together. Part of it was the Force bond they had shared. Part of it was Kenobi's Force signature, warm and serene, which habitually reached out to calm his former padawan whenever Skywalker felt too on edge. Had Kenobi been on Coruscant, close enough for Anakin to feel his grounding, familiar presence, Darth Vader would not exist.

That was why Vader felt...wary now. He didn't want to touch Kenobi's mind. He rarely employed mind torture anyway, mostly because he found it unpleasant to feel other people's minds; he far preferred using mind probes.

He didn't want to touch Kenobi's disgustingly brainwashed Jedi mind.

_Liar_.

Darth Vader ignored the voice, a voice that had been becoming irritatingly louder and stronger the more he spent time around Kenobi.

"You said you were now weaker in the Force," Vader said. "Why?" It was something that had been bothering him--because he hated what he didn't understand.

Kenobi shrugged. "If you read my mind, you'll know. You wouldn't believe me if I just told you."

Vader glared at him, incensed that Kenobi was still pushing for it. "I have no desire to touch your revolting Jedi mind."

Kenobi raised an eyebrow and said wryly, "Revolting? I remember a time you very much enjoyed it, Anakin."

Vader Force-slammed him against the nearest wall, making him grunt in pain.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Kenobi taunted despite being pinned to the wall.

"I see you still lack any sense of self-preservation," Vader said, stalking over.

Kenobi met his gaze steadily. "I'm not afraid of you, Anakin. You can torture me or kill me, of course, but I'm not afraid of either outcome. If it's my time to join the Force, I am ready."

For some reason, that incensed Vader even more. "Only I will decide whether you're ready to die or not," he hissed. "Only I!"

Kenobi gave him a strange look Vader couldn't quite read. "Then look into my mind. What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Vader bit out, wrapping one metal hand around Kenobi's throat and squeezing. "Least of all of an old, weak man that has a fraction of my power."

"Then prove it," Kenobi choked out, his eyes full of stubborn defiance that Vader wanted to choke out of him.

_Prove it._

Vader didn't want to.

Because Kenobi was right, damn him. In the other life, in Skywalker's life, his Jedi Master's mind had been one of his favorite things in the world. Joint meditations with Kenobi had been the only thing that had actually worked to bring Skywalker some peace and clarity, however temporary the effect was. As Skywalker became a teenager, he'd refused to do joint meditations anymore, not wanting his Master to find out about his inappropriate crush. They still meditated together, but they didn't allow their minds to mix as intimately as they used to in the past. They stopped meditating together completely when Skywalker had become a Knight, which probably contributed to Skywalker's slide to the Dark Side.

So no, Vader didn't want to touch Kenobi's mind. It was bad enough that the more he interacted with Kenobi, the more like Skywalker he thought. Getting into Kenobi's mind was the last thing he wanted.

But now he had to, to prove to this infuriating man that he wasn't scared.

Because he _wasn't_ scared. He was Darth Vader, a Lord of the Sith. He was scared of nothing.

Determined to just do it and get it over with, Vader focused and tore out Kenobi's flimsy mental defenses. He slammed inside his mind--

And all his senses went on overload as he found himself quickly sinking into the depths of Kenobi's mind. No! He tried to extract himself, focus on Kenobi's surface thoughts, but it was useless: he was falling, drawn into the _warm_, welcoming depths of that mind, so familiar and achingly good around him.

He shuddered, trying to resist the pull, but it was futile. It was like fighting gravity. Force, he couldn't remember the last time he felt--the last time he _felt_. He'd been alone in his mind, alone in that suit for four years. Being touched, even mentally, was overwhelming. It was too much, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop, he wanted more, more of that exquisite pleasure and warmth, more of that mind that felt like his. Yes, yes, it was his, of course it was his. Obi-Wan's mind was his, it had been his, why wasn't it his anymore?

Deliriously, he searched that mind, looking frantically for what had been there before. When he found it, broken and shriveled and barely recognizable, the pitiful remnant of the strong bond that had once connected their minds and Force signatures, Vader grabbed it and poured his power into it, trying to revive it. Distantly, he was aware that Kenobi was saying something, sounding panicked and out of breath, but he didn't listen. He didn't care. This was _his_, he would take it back. Vader felt the bond resisting, the Force itself in turmoil around them, as if what he was attempting to do was something unnatural. He didn't care. He would have this, he would have this warmth and pleasure, it was his, it had always been his, no one would steal it from him again--

"Anakin," Kenobi gasped, shuddering in his grip. "Stop that. A Jedi and a Sith can't have a Force bond. It's literally impossible! You're trying to break the laws of the Unifying Force!"

"I am Darth Vader," he snarled. "I am the son of the Force. I can do anything I want." And he did. He finally managed to bend the Force--it rippled around them, screaming in protest but obeying--and the bond snapped into the back of his mind, strong and beautiful, new yet familiar. It felt like drinking cool, pure water after years of thirst. Vader groaned and fell against Kenobi, pleasure racking through his mind and body. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so good. So very warm. So strong and _whole_.

It took him a while to realize that Kenobi was saying something.

"... What have you done?"

Vader pulled back a little.

There was a look of horror--and something like wonder--on Kenobi's face.

"What have I done?" Vader said, sounding dazed even to his own ears.

Kenobi shook his head, staring at him as if he were either crazy or stupid. The look was annoyingly familiar, but Vader found it hard to be annoyed by much of anything at the moment--not when he felt so good. He was so used to constant pain that feeling even mild pleasure felt like being on drugs.

"You _ripped_ the fabric of the Force, twisted it, and tied together its polar opposites that are never supposed to be joined!" Kenobi said. "A Force bond between a Jedi and a Sith is an abomination!"

Vader shrugged, uncaring, and slipped back into Kenobi's mind, the bond making it as easy as breathing.

"Stop that!" Kenobi said, his face flushing and his eyes glazing over.

Vader didn't stop.

He didn't think he could, even if he wanted to.

He breathed shakily, slipping deeper and deeper inside that light, warm mind, trying and failing to sate the soul-deep _hunger_ burning in the pit of his being.

Force, it felt so good. Had it always felt so good?

He didn't know.

He didn't care.

Darth Vader felt more alive than he'd felt in years.

He wouldn't let _anyone_ take this away from him.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

* * *

Obi-Wan remembered what it felt like to be bonded to Anakin Skywalker.

It had been a constant struggle to protect his mind from the boy's anger and resentment when Anakin was in a bad mood. It had been a source of quiet joy and warm companionship when his padawan was in a good mood. Sometimes it was just a useful tool for him to gauge how Anakin was feeling. Sometimes it served as an emotional anchor for Anakin when the boy was upset. The latter was something Obi-Wan knew that he shouldn't have allowed, but he had allowed it nonetheless. Having grown up in the Temple, Obi-Wan often simply did not know how to deal with his emotional padawan, so he had allowed the bond to do the comforting when he couldn't do it physically.

Later, after Geonosis, when Anakin mostly closed his end of the bond, protecting his mind and his thoughts from him, Obi-Wan tried not to take it personally. He reasoned with himself that it was part of growing up, that Anakin was a man now, not a boy, and it was natural that he no longer leaned emotionally on his master and the bond between them.

He still couldn't deny that it had been... difficult to adjust to the sudden distance between them. In hindsight, he wondered if that time had coincided with Anakin's marriage to Senator Amidala or growing friendship with Palpatine. Perhaps both. Even after all this time, the timeline was not clear to him.

Anakin had been so mercurial in the year before his Fall: one day he would be cold and full of resentment toward the Council in general and Obi-Wan in particular; the next, he would be affectionate, warm, and kind. It used to give Obi-Wan whiplash; he never knew what version of his former padawan he would be dealing with on a given day.

Perhaps that had been his biggest failure: the fact that he had never done anything beyond wondering about Anakin's puzzling behavior.

Obi-Wan shook off the thought. It was no use thinking about it now.

What he should be thinking about was how to convince Vader to break this abomination of a bond between them. It wasn't going to be easy, since Vader was completely unreasonable about the bond.

"Unreasonable" was probably an understatement, considering that Vader seemed... _addicted_ to it, for lack of a better word. At least he showed all signs of addiction. He visited Obi-Wan's cell at increasingly frequent times, and immediately delved into Obi-Wan's mind, displaying single-minded greediness and longing so strong that it shook Obi-Wan to his core.

Obi-Wan was not sure how much time Vader spent in his mind, but it seemed to become longer with each visit. Truth be told, Obi-Wan tended to...lose track of time when Vader entered his mind. It was difficult not to. The bond with Vader felt nothing like the one he had shared with Anakin, but it was the very same one, just twisted beyond recognition. It resonated with the part of his soul that missed his padawan like a lost limb, but at the same time, it _terrified_ Obi-Wan.

Because now, with their minds connected on the most intimate level, Obi-Wan could feel that Vader _was_ Anakin, just one who had lost himself to darkness and pain. There was so much darkness in him that it threatened to overwhelm Obi-Wan every time Vader used the bond to slip into the deepest parts of his mind.

Obi-Wan tried to fight the darkness with his own light, but with his weakened connection to the Force, it was harder than it could have been. All he could do was protect his own mind from those suffocating waves of pain, anger, and above all, greed.

Greed was not an entirely unfamiliar emotion for Obi-Wan. Anakin used to show flashes of greed when he demanded more from him than Obi-Wan was ready to give. But Vader's greed was like nothing he'd ever felt: it was all-powerful and all-consuming, obliterating every other feeling, even Vader's anger.

_More_, Vader's mind said as it delved inside him greedily. _More, more, more._

It was overwhelming. It was sickening and... exhilarating, to Obi-Wan's shame.

He should have been disgusted. Being bonded to a Sith should have been revolting. Unthinkable. But to Obi-Wan's shame, Vader's mental presence felt _good_. Since they were Force-bonded, Vader's mental pleasure translated into his own, despite the sickening darkness that filled the bond too. It was a constant feedback loop of _more, more, more_, with Obi-Wan's mind turning hazy and his knees weak by the time Vader left his mind.

Obi-Wan would have liked to blame the pleasure he felt on the second-hand emotions he got from Vader, but to his shame, it wasn't just that. There was a part of him, the sick, wrong, un-Jedi-like part, that enjoyed having _Anakin_, even a dark version of Anakin, inside him after years of thinking him gone and grieving his loss. This was _Anakin_, his Anakin, the boy he'd once raised, protected, and loved more than anything. The boy he'd built his life around after Qui-Gon's death, the strong young man who'd made him immensely proud as he watched Anakin become a great Master for Ahsoka. This was Anakin, no matter how twisted and dark his soul now was.

It wasn't the Jedi way. Master Yoda would have shaken his head and told him to not allow his attachment to cloud his judgment. Obi-Wan tried to, but Force, he was...tired. Bone-weary. Weak. He had been alone for so long, the loss of the Jedi Order still a gaping wound inside him. Having _this_ Force signature inside him soothed that wound, no matter how twisted and barely recognizable it now was.

The sensation at the back of his mind tore Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. He tensed, lifting his head.

There, again. Vader's Force signature brushed against his flimsy mental shields again, impatient and demanding.

Incredulous, Obi-Wan frowned. Vader had been summoned to the bridge this morning, which was a very significant distance away from Obi-Wan's cell on a huge ship like this. It should have been impossible to intitiate a mental connection at such a distance--at least for people who weren't the Chosen One. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure if Anakin had been capable of doing it; he had certainly never done it. Either Anakin had simply never wanted mental contact with him over a distance or he was now significantly more powerful as a Sith. Both options were disquieting.

The mental probing became more insistent as Vader demanded entrance to his mind. It seemed that over the distance Vader couldn't simply force his way in.

After a moment, Obi-Wan gave in, allowing him the mental connection voluntarily for the first time since this started. A wave of foreign emotions rushed into him, Vader's vicious satisfaction filling his mind.

But it seemed the physical distance between them made their connection less overwhelming, making it easier to protect his mind from Vader's darkness and actually _think_.

Obi-Wan focused and, using the link Vader had created, carefully pushed past Vader's satisfaction, sending his mental presence into Vader's mind.

He felt Vader start, his alarm mixing with pleasure.

"_What are you doing?"_ Vader snarled through the connection. "_Get out of my head!"_

Obi-Wan froze. It was _Anakin's_ voice. Anakin's, not Vader's. It probably shouldn't have surprised him so much: of course Vader wouldn't sound like his voice modulator when they communicated mentally. But somehow, it did. Vader had never really tried to communicate with him when he merged their minds, and Obi-Wan had been too overwhelmed by their connection and the strength of Vader's raging emotions to do it, either.

But now... hearing Anakin's voice through the bond was... it was...

Obi-Wan felt his eyes burn and had to breathe deeply in order to calm down.

When he finally did, he replied,  
"_You can easily cut the connection, Anakin. You're the one who established it."_

He recieved a wave of rage in response, but Vader didn't cast him out of his mind. Obi-Wan had known he wouldn't. Vader was too addicted to this connection between them to cut it, and perhaps it was time for Obi-Wan to make use of it.

"_What do you want?"_ Vader said, his mental voice hostile but so very _Anakin_ it hurt Obi-Wan's heart. Force, Anakin.

It took him a moment to reply. _"I want you to actually use this bond for something productive. Or did you forget why you were looking into my mind in the first place? You should check my memories and confirm that I was telling the truth."_

There was silence for a moment before Vader said, _"I'm busy."_

Obi-Wan's eyebrow flew up. _"That didn't stop you from initiating this mental connection."_

The answering silence was so angry Obi-Wan had to strengthen his shields in order not to let it affect him.

"_There's no shame in needing human contact, Anakin,"_ Obi-Wan said softly.

"_Stop calling me that,"_ Vader snarled. "_You're a hypocrite. You don't really think of me as him anyway."_

Obi-Wan paused, choosing his answer carefully. _"I will admit that it is easier for me to think of you as Vader--it keeps me sane. But I refuse to call you by the hideous name Sidious chose for you. The name your mother gave you is beautiful."_

"_Don't you dare speak of her!"_ Vader growled, his rage sweeping through them. "_It is your fault she's dead! If you listened to me--"_ Vader cut himself off, but it was too late: Obi-Wan could feel his genuine anguish and grief even despite the distance between them.

Obi-Wan's eyes burned again, hope and guilt filling his chest in equal measure. Vader had never felt more like Anakin. Deep down, Vader still had a heart, Anakin's loving heart. It was just lost under the armor of hate, rage, and pain.

"_I was not a very good Master for you,"_ Obi-Wan said, closing his eyes. "_I am well aware of it. I know I have failed you, Anakin. If you were Qui-Gon's padawan, you wouldn't have fallen to the Dark Side."_

There was only silence in response, Vader's emotions so volatile that they were impossible to decipher.

"_Stop that,"_ he said at last, irritably. _"Your self-flagellation is as pathetic as it is annoying. Fine. I will watch your memories."_

Relieved, Obi-Wan pushed his memories forward. He showed Vader how he met another Vader and an Obi-Wan from a parallel universe, a universe in which Obi-Wan hadn't maimed Anakin on Mustafar. The other Obi-Wan had apparently lost his midi-chlorians thanks to the constant use of Force-inhibitors Vader had injected him with, and had been rapidly aging, projected to die within the next five years.

He showed Vader how he had donated half of his midi-chlorians to his counterpart, but the blood transfusion didn't work and the dimension travelers had left empty-handed, depleting Obi-Wan's Force strength for nothing.

"_It seems our counterparts found a solution to this problem in another dimension,"_ Obi-Wan concluded at last, showing Vader the second visit he got from the dimension travelers just a few days ago. "_My other self wasn't aged or weak anymore. It appears the ritual Vader performed on him had restored the other Obi-Wan's body to his strongest state. There is no reason to think it wouldn't work on you."_

Vader was very quiet. Obi-Wan would almost think that he had disconnected from Obi-Wan's mind, except he could feel him thinking. There was also an undercurrent of an emotion, weak but growing stronger with every moment.

It took Obi-Wan a moment to recognize it for what he was: fierce yearning mixed with fear. Fear of getting his hopes up.

It made Obi-Wan's heart hurt.

Finally, Vader said tersely, "_I shall think about it,"_ and broke the mental link.

***

Vader returned to Obi-Wan's cell only two days later.

He sat opposite Obi-Wan and regarded him in silence.

Obi-Wan looked back, trying to sense what Vader was feeling, but Vader was unusually closed off in the Force.

"I have retrieved the artifact from Commander Derix," he said at last. "But he did not have the instructions that I saw in your memories."

Obi-Wan breathed out. So Vader believed him.

"He wouldn't," he replied calmly. "I memorized the instructions and destroyed them. It would have been too dangerous to keep them around."

Vader was quiet. He seemed to be looking at Obi-Wan, but it was hard to tell when he was so closed off in the Force.

Frankly, it was surprising. Obi-Wan had gotten rather accustomed to Vader delving into his mind the moment he entered the room. Obi-Wan was... confused by Vader's strange self-restraint. Yes, he was confused; that was all.

"And you are willing to perform that ritual on me?" Vader said.

Obi-Wan frowned. "It does not matter whether I am willing or not. I will not be able to do it. The ritual requires a connection to the Dark Side and raw power. In my current state, I do not have enough Force strength. You will have to find someone else to perform the ritual on you."

"What about the Dark Side connection? Are you saying that it would not be a problem?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I have touched the Dark Side before," he said, dropping his gaze. He didn't elaborate. He had no desire to speak about Qui-Gon's death and his fight with Maul. Nor did he have any desire to talk about the pit of despair and grief that he'd fallen into after Order 66 and Mustafar. He knew he'd come dangerously close to Falling in those days. He also knew that he would be able to touch the Dark Side again if it was needed.

"Then you will do the ritual," Vader stated.

Obi-Wan frowned at him in confusion. "I already told you why I cannot do it. My connection to the Force is significantly weaker now that my midi-chlorians--"

"I will obviously fix you first," Vader said.

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Pardon?"

Something like irritation flared across their bond. "Of course I will fix you first," Vader said. "Or did you think I would let anyone perform on me some strange ritual without testing it first?"

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, Vader finally lifted his shields and _pushed_ inside him.

A small sound ripped out of Obi-Wan's throat. The Force surged between them, a hot, jarring pulse of energy that wove itself between them, drawing their Force signatures together with almost violent twining of auras. Force, it felt... incredible. Obi-Wan wondered with dismay if perhaps Vader wasn't the only one addicted to this feeling.

"_You want this, too,"_ said Anakin's voice in his head.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, closing his eyes.

"_You need this, too,"_ Vader pressed, stroking Obi-Wan's mind with his, pleasure coursing between them. "_You need me, Obi-Wan. You always have, haven't you?"_

"_A Jedi does not need,"_ Obi-Wan said, acutely aware how unconvincing it sounded considering the fact that his Force signature was all but clinging to Anakin's. "_You are delusional."_

"_No, I can see everything clearly now, my old Master,"_ Anakin's voice crooned, soft and intimate, but there was an underlying hard, nasty edge to it. "_You were the one who insisted that we continue sharing the quarters after I was Knighted. And we were pretty much the only former Master-Padawan pair that continued being assigned to the same missions. Did you use your seat on the Council for that, Obi-Wan?"_

"_That is not true,"_ Obi-Wan said, his face hot.

Anakin continued, as if he hadn't heard him, "_Then there was the fact that you disliked the Chancellor for no reason--"_

"_No reason? He was a Sith!"_

"_But you didn't know that, did you? You disliked him because you didn't like sharing me. Admit it, Obi-Wan."_

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Anakin _laughed_ and pushed his mental presence deeper into him, making Obi-Wan moan weakly as pleasure rolled through his body, and charged his skin with buzzing, pulsating energy.

"_Look at you, Master. I have killed thousands, and yet here you are, falling apart from my mental touch. What would the Council say if they could see you now, Obi-Wan?"_

Hot shame swept over Obi-Wan. "_What would Sidious say if he could see you now?"_ he countered.

He had thought his words would enrage Anakin, but he felt only a small spike of his irritation.

"_It does not matter,"_ Anakin said. "_I will kill him soon enough."_

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open.

It was incredibly jarring to see Vader's black armor after hearing Anakin's voice.

"What?" Obi-Wan said.

"He has outlived his usefulness to me," Vader said, getting to his feet.

Obi-Wan could only stare at him, disoriented by the contrast between Anakin's voice in his head and Vader's gravelly, artificial voice.

"Well, I feel better knowing that you are no more loyal to your new Master than you were to me," Obi-Wan said dryly.

He felt something like... bitterness and amusement through the bond. "You are truly delusional if you think I was ever loyal to Sidious," Vader said.

Obi-Wan looked at him in bemusement. "Then why?"

_Irritation_. "I already told you: he promised to save Skywalker's wife."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice that Vader started referring to Anakin as a different person whenever he felt defensive.

"Yes, but that still doesn't explain how you--"

"_What do you want me to say?"_ Anakin snapped in his mind. "_That he duped me? That he used Padmé to manipulate me into betraying Windu? That there was simply no going back for me after that?"_

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Is that what happened?" he said hoarsely. All these years, he had wondered, trying to _understand_ how the kind, loyal friend he knew could have become a mass murderer in the span of a day.

Vader scoffed and cut off the connection. It made Obi-Wan shiver, his entire being suddenly very hollow and cold. He had not known one's mind could feel _cold_, but after feeling the inferno of Vader's emotions, his very much did.

He could feel an echo of a similar feeling coming from Vader: something between desperate yearning and hunger, mixed with anger and hatred.

They stared at each other. Obi-Wan could only hope that the inappropriate, shameful longing he was feeling wasn't written on his face. Force, give him strength.

"It does not matter now," Vader said flatly before stalking out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sith ritual in this chapter is explained much better in When the Abyss Stares Back at You than here; I didn't want to make you read the same thing again--I think that would have been rather tedious. But it still should make sense.

* * *

* * *

After taking a shower, Obi-Wan stared at himself in the mirror. He still was not used to his reflection.

He looked...so _young_. If he had to guess, this body was no older than twenty.

He still could not believe Vader had managed to do it. And yet, his reflection in the mirror looked two decades younger than he really was, and the Force _singing_ in his body was another proof that the ritual had worked. Obi-Wan had almost forgotten how much easier reaching to the Force used to be, how much healthier he had felt with all his midi-chlorians intact.

Vader had really done it.

Part of him had been so certain that Vader wouldn't be able to successfully perform the ritual. After all, the instructions Obi-Wan's counterpart had left for him were clear: the ritual required conviction and true desire to fix the subject of the ritual, that if one had even a sliver of doubt, the ritual would not work.

And yet, Vader had done it, somehow. Obi-Wan tried not to read too much into it. It didn't necessarily mean that Anakin still cared for him.

Truth be told, Obi-Wan didn't remember much of the ritual. His memory of it was disjointed and blurry, as though a dream--another thing his counterpart had warned about. Apparently, the ritual not only restored one's physical body, but effectively erased the more recent memories too. Obi-Wan knew that the only reason he hadn't lost his memories was thanks to the unnatural bond between him and Vader. For once, their bond was a blessing.

The disconcerting part was, his every memory of Anakin was sharper while his other memories seemed more distant and blurrier. It made Obi-Wan uneasy, unsure whether Vader had somehow tampered with his memories or if it was just a side-effect of their unnatural bond.

Leaving the fresher, Obi-Wan sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, slipping into deep meditation.

An hour later, he emerged out of it, disappointed and relieved in equal measure. He hadn't found any sign of Vader tampering with his mind during the ritual. His mind was still his own. In fact, both his mind and his body felt remarkably healthy.

At that moment, the door opened, and Vader entered the room.

Obi-Wan swallowed, clenching his trembling hands into fists. He might be technically healthy, but he didn't feel like it anymore. The bond between them pulsed with horrible need, and it took everything in Obi-Wan to resist the urge to initiate the connection. It seemed that having all his midi-chlorians back had only made the problem far worse.

Obi-Wan could no longer deny that he needed this unnatural connection as much as Vader did. He craved the intimacy of it, the shameful feeling of completion that he felt as soon as their minds joined.

Clenching his jaw, Obi-Wan averted his gaze. He _could_ control himself. He was a Jedi. He was no slave to this twisted bond between them.

Unfortunately, Vader didn't seem to have the same reservations as him. He immediately plunged into Obi-Wan's mind, making him gasp and feel glad that he was seated, because his knees were suddenly weak.

_"You feel just like before,"_ Anakin's voice said in his mind, his mental voice tinged with something like wonder and hunger. "_And you look just like you did when I first met you."_

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "I am glad my appearance pleases you," he said dryly. "But is there a reason for this visit or are you here because you missed assaulting my mind?"

"_It is hardly an assault when you are gagging for it,"_ Anakin said, sliding even deeper inside him.

Obi-Wan bit his lip to stop himself from making any noise. _"I suppose for a mass murderer, a mental assault would be nothing."_

"_Do not try my patience, Obi-Wan,"_ Anakin said.

Obi-Wan noted that Anakin always called him Obi-Wan when they communicated through the bond, even though he continued calling him Kenobi when they talked aloud. But then again, Obi-Wan was guilty of the same thing: he thought of Anakin as Vader when they spoke outside the bond. But when their minds were joined so intimately, it was harder to keep on their masks.

"_I am still yet to see the evidence of you possessing such thing as patience_," Obi-Wan told him, a little disturbed by how easy it was to slip back into their sarcastic banter.

"If you feel well enough to snark at me, you have clearly recovered from the ritual," Vader said, cutting off the connection between them. "Now you will return the favor."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and stared at his black mask. "Now?"

"Why not?" Vader said harshly. "The longer we wait, the bigger the chance of Sidious learning about you." He pulled the familiar Sith artifact out of the pocket of his robes and laid it on the floor in front of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan stared at it before shaking his head. "No."

Vader's fury was like a living thing, and it was clawing at Obi-Wan's brain. "You promised," he growled, grabbing Obi-Wan's throat with the Force.

"I'm not saying that I will not do it," Obi-Wan managed.

The Force-choke was gone. "Explain," Vader snapped.

Rubbing at his sore throat, Obi-Wan said, "I simply do not think it will work while you are wearing your armor. The runes must be drawn on your flesh. And the artifact needs to be touching your skin for the ritual to work."

Vader fell silent.

"That... would not be easy to arrange," he said at last.

Obi-Wan nodded, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Anakin didn't have any natural limbs and what was left of his flesh was enclosed in a life-support suit.

"Do you perhaps have a special chamber where you can function without your armor?" Obi-Wan said, pushing through his discomfort and illogical guilt.

"I do," Vader said after a moment.

He didn't say anything else, but Obi-Wan could sense his reluctance, how much he disliked the idea.

Obi-Wan frowned, a little puzzled. He knew why _he_ didn't want to see what was under Vader's armor, but he didn't understand why Vader would be so resistant to the idea. Unless...

"I will not harm you while you are vulnerable, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, looking down at his own hands. "If I were capable of it, I would have killed you on Mustafar."

If he had thought that would reassure Vader, it seemed he was mistaken. It only seemed to make him angry in addition to reluctant.

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed. "Why are you hesitating? I would have thought you would be glad to show me the injuries I inflicted, to use them to make me feel guilty."

"And you would be wrong, as usual," Vader said testily. "But fine. Put on the robe, cover your face, and follow me."

Obi-Wan put on the dark robe Vader had provided him with and pulled his hood before following Vader out of the room. He was a little surprised that Vader didn't even bother restraining him. Was it a sign of trust?

Perhaps not trust exactly, but now that they shared such a deep bond, Vader likely could sense that Obi-Wan had no nefarious motives. And yet, Obi-Wan had trouble imagining Darth Vader making himself vulnerable enough by turning his back to a Jedi. Obi-Wan may not have a lightsaber, but he still had the Force, and a Jedi could do a lot of harm with the Force.

Was it possible that, deep down, Anakin still trusted him, subconsciously?

Obi-Wan was still contemplating it when they finally reached Vader's personal quarters. Obi-Wan followed the Sith inside and looked around.

His breath caught in his throat.

The cabin was a mess. In fact, it was one huge mess, droid parts everywhere. It reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin's old room in the Temple, disconcertingly so, with one big difference: there was no bed.

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Do you not sleep?"

_Anger_.

"I do," Vader said, jerking his head toward the bacta tank in the corner. "In the bacta tank."

Oh.

Obi-Wan's fingers clenched in the fabric of his robe. He should not feel guilty about this. Anakin had done it to himself. He should not feel guilty.

He still did. He knew from experience how disconcerting it felt to wake up in a bacta tank. He couldn't imagine having to sleep in it night after night.

"Is that really necessary?" Obi-Wan said at last. "I thought the wounds would have been healed by now. It has been four years."

Vader laughed. It was a horrible sound, harsh and jarring. "I am three-quarter mechanical and one-quarter human," he said. "What is left of my flesh requires regular healing, because the mechanical parts of my body just damage the fragile flesh further and make my wounds reopen."

Obi-Wan averted his gaze.

"However, I do not sleep in the bacta tank every night," Vader said, walking to the wall and punching in a security code. It slid open.

Obi-Wan found himself looking at a... rectangular metal chamber, just barely big enough for one person to lie down.

"It is a hyperbaric meditation chamber," Vader said tonelessly, walking to stand beside it. "The only environment I can take my armor off for a short while."

Obi-Wan felt rather claustrophobic just looking at the chamber. _Force_. He really had reduced Anakin to a fate worse than death. Death would have been more merciful than such existence.

"It is not designed for two people, but it will have to do," Vader said. "You will also have to strip completely and take a sonic shower on the highest setting to destroy any bacteria." He gestured toward the sonic shower before turning to the chambers' controls. "Be quick."

Obi-Wan did as he was told, his mind reeling.

Finally, clean and naked, he followed Vader into the chamber, trying to ignore his discomfort.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan was ashamed of his state of undress; he wasn't. He and Anakin had seen each other naked countless times.

But this was different. They were not _Anakin and Obi-Wan._ They were Darth Vader and his prisoner. Not to mention that Obi-Wan was still not accustomed to his new youthful body.

He sat on the padded floor of the chamber and watched the hatch slide close. Vader handed him the Sith artifact and activated the small droid in the corner of the chamber. Its coloring reminded Obi-Wan of Artoo and his throat was suddenly too tight.

The droid started helping Vader remove his armor. Obi-Wan cowardly looked down at the cube in his hands. It was already filled with blood of whatever Darksider Vader had killed for the purposes of the ritual. It made Obi-Wan nauseous just looking at it as he remembered Vader forcing him to drink it a few days ago. It had been disgusting, but according to Obi-Wan's counterpart, it _was_ necessary. The artifact made the midi-chlorians in the blood susceptible to Force suggestions, and the blood needed to be inside the subject of the ritual--and on their skin--for the ritual to work.

Obi-Wan's stomach clenched into anxious knots as he thought about the fact that he would have to draw the blood runes on Vader's flesh just like Vader had drawn them on Obi-Wan's for his ritual. Obi-Wan's memory of it was rather vague. He could only vaguely remember Vader's black gloved hand drawing the runes on his torso. He could remember his heart hammering in his chest as Vader's hands pressed the Sith artifact against Obi-Wan's palms.

Obi-Wan stiffened when he heard the droid finish removing Vader's armor and deactivate.

Obi-Wan stared at the cube in his hands as if it was the most interesting thing in the universe.

A beat passed, then another.

He could no longer hear the sound of Vader's respirator. All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, and another person's wheezy, labored breathing.

Footsteps.

Then metal legs appeared in the line of Obi-Wan's vision.

"Look at me," said a hoarse voice. Not Darth Vader's voice. A voice so familiar and yet so different. "Look what you turned me into."

"You have done it yourself," Obi-Wan said, but his voice didn't sound convincing even to his own ears, so weak and unsteady it was.

"I never thought you to be a coward."

Obi-Wan flinched.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze. His gaze traveled over the metal legs, the scars where the metal joined the flesh, the deformed, burned flesh of Vader's thighs and genitals.

Nausea rose to Obi-Wan's throat again, but he forced himself to keep looking.

Where once had been a smooth chest with perfectly sculpted muscles was now a twisted, red flesh with artificial bones and organs that had replaced the damaged ones.

Obi-Wan stared at Vader's metal hands. They looked larger, cruder, less nimble than Anakin's original metal hand.

They looked _wrong_. Completely out of place. Those crude hands must have been much more difficult for Vader to accept as part of him than his first metal hand had been. It must have been incredibly frustrating and disheartening to learn how to adjust to four artificial limbs at once, limbs that were larger and cruder than the ones he'd lost.

_The ones I severed._

Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek. He tried to tell himself that what he had done was justified--Vader had done terrible things; he deserved nothing less--but his heart still clenched painfully as he remembered how difficult it had been for Anakin to adjust to the loss of his hand. A single limb, not _four_. Not to mention that after Mustafar, Vader also had countless other serious injuries on top of his severed limbs. The sheer agony, the horror of it... Had it not been punishment enough? Had it not been punishment enough that Vader couldn't even function without a metal cage around him for years?

_Blinds you, your attachment does_, Master Yoda's voice said in his head. _Objective, you cannot be._

Even the imaginary voice made Obi-Wan's shoulders hunch in shame.

Bracing himself, Obi-Wan forced himself to look upwards.

Vader's face was the only part of him that seemed remotely intact, though it was deathly pale and had quite a few scars. He had neither hair nor eyebrows.

When Obi-Wan finally made himself meet the Sith's eyes, his breathing hitched.

If Obi-Wan hadn't been sitting, he would have collapsed. He could no longer distance himself from the situation, could no longer compartmentalize it.

This wasn't some random mutilated man. This wasn't Vader. It was _Anakin_. Or rather, Anakin and Vader were one and the same.

Anakin's eyes were clearly damaged to some extent, because he kept squinting, but the emotions in them--the hatred, pain, anger--were so easily recognizable as Anakin's that Obi-Wan wanted to draw his knees to his chest and weep like a child.

He was the one who had reduced his vibrant, beautiful padawan to _this_. Anakin had always been in motion, robust and full of life. Seeing him in such a fragile, broken state seemed unthinkable. Beyond unthinkable. How had they come to this? How? This was the boy he had raised, the man who had saved Obi-Wan's life countless times.

Obi-Wan swallowed the painful lump in his throat, his eyes stinging as he remembered them bantering good-naturedly about how many times Anakin had saved his life. Could either of them imagine that a few days later, Obi-Wan would reduce Anakin to _this_?

"Stop crying," Anakin said harshly, glowering at him. "I do not want your pity, Obi-Wan. Proceed. I can spend only a limited time out of my armor."

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan nodded and reached for the blood-filled cube.

His hand shaking, he carefully drew the blood runes on Anakin's mutilated flesh, wincing every time Anakin's breath hitched in pain.

_Shie-_-life rune--over Anakin's heart.  
_Kivu_\--transformation rune--on Anakin's stomach.  
_Redeigh_\--improvement rune--on his shoulder.

Anakin didn't speak, watching him with a hostile, dark gaze.

It took Obi-Wan a while to realize that despite the pain he clearly was experiencing, Anakin was _leaning_ into the touch--subconsciously, but leaning.

The implications of it made Obi-Wan's eyes sting again. Of course. Anakin had spent four years in a metal cage, without being touched by anyone. Humans were social creatures. There had been many instances of humans dying or going mad without human contact. It had been _four years_. But what if it had been more? Ten, fifteen, twenty? Such isolation would have likely made Vader more than a little deranged--if he survived at all.

"Stop crying," Anakin gritted out again, giving him a withering look. Despite the immense pain--and not all of it physical--radiating off him, Anakin's eyes were dry. "Finish it."

His vision still blurry, Obi-Wan drew a large _deyre_\--strength rune--over Anakin's back. It was a lot less damaged than Anakin's chest, which made sense, Obi-Wan thought distantly, trying not to think about how Anakin had tried to crawl up the lava bank to escape the flames.

Finally, it was done. He gave the half-full cube to Anakin and said hoarsely, "Drink."

A humorless smile touched Anakin's scarred lips. "Drinking it might make me puke, because my digestive system doesn't work well. You will have to inject me with it." He handed Obi-Wan a syringe.

His jaw clenching, Obi-Wan nodded and got to work, trying to ignore the numerous discoloration and scars on Anakin's skin that had clearly been caused by frequent use of injections. He tried not to think about how much worse it would have been if Anakin didn't use bacta tanks often.

When he was finally done, Obi-Wan felt drained for reasons he couldn't explain.

"Now comes the hard part," Anakin said tonelessly, meeting his gaze. "You have to really want it for the ritual to work." It was obvious that he didn't really believe it--he didn't believe that Obi-Wan could do it.

Anxiety settled in the pit of Obi-Wan's stomach.

Taking the artifact into his hand again, Obi-Wan sat in a meditative pose behind the Sith. Carefully, he pressed the artifact against Anakin's back--one of the few remaining parts of the Sith's body that didn't seem as fragile as the rest--and closed his eyes.

Obi-Wan focused and reached for the Dark Side. He had never consciously sought it before and he was apprehensive, but unfortunately, he did need it for the Sith artifact to work.

Obi-Wan focused on every negative emotion that he had ever felt, every instance he had come close to Falling. Qui-Gon's death, the rage he had felt, the dark satisfaction of killing Maul... then his grief, bodies in the Jedi Temple, the security recording that turned Obi-Wan's world upside down as he watched his former padawan and brother kill children... Mustafar. The anguish, the horror, the devastation... the heartbreak of leaving the person he had loved the most burning alive.

The Dark Side touched the edges of Obi-Wan's Force signature and this time he let it in, let it rush through him as he focused on the artifact that was getting warmer and warmer beneath his hand. Obi-Wan poured the Force through the cube, _willing_ the midi-chlorians in the ritual blood to transform Anakin's body back to its strongest state.

But the more he drew from the Dark Side, the stronger his doubts and fears became.

_Why are you trying to fix a Sith Lord who destroyed everything you loved?_

Obi-Wan faltered, but clenched his jaw and resumed pouring the Force through the artifact. His doubts were immaterial. He would _not_ fail Anakin again. Yes, Anakin had done unspeakable things, but if this pitiful, painful existence for years hadn't been punishment enough for his actions, Obi-Wan didn't know what would be.

Besides, he was a Jedi. It wasn't his place to decide who deserved punishment or mercy. All he could do was restore what he had once destroyed and hope for the best--hope that Anakin's good heart would win over his Sith nature.

_But what if it wouldn't? What if you are risking Falling to the Dark Side for nothing?_

_Then so be it,_ Obi-Wan told himself. He might be making a mistake, he might be corrupting his own soul trying to save Anakin's, but he was willing to risk it. What was left of his soul wasn't worth much. This was the first time in years that Obi-Wan had felt like he was doing something meaningful instead of cowardly hiding on Tatooine, watching over the little boy whose father he had failed. He had felt so _useless_ on Tatooine, just going through the motions, day after day, his chest hollow and his life empty while Vader was out there in the galaxy, destroying lives and killing innocents. As long as he kept protecting his memories of Luke and Leia from Anakin, the children were safer away from a wanted Jedi like Obi-Wan.

_That is just an excuse_, the Dark Side whispered mockingly. _You're doing this because he has always been your greatest weakness. The one person you tried to love less than you loved the Order--and failed. Even on Mustafar, it was your war-honed instincts that acted when he jumped. It wasn't a conscious decision. You couldn't even kill him. You are weak. You are selfish. You need too much. You need **him** too much._

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and resolved to ignore the Dark Side's whispers. He had never been one to be easily swayed once he made a difficult decision.

He was going to fix Anakin. He would not fail. He may not be as strong in the Force as Anakin was, and the Dark Side might respond to his will only sluggishly, but Obi-Wan had one advantage: he had always been exceptional at "Jedi mind tricks." And this was essentially one, albeit a very complicated one.

So Obi-Wan _pushed_ his will, pushed the Force through the artifact, commanding the midi-chlorians to obey him and transform Anakin to the time he was the strongest.

_Change_, he commanded.

The runes on Anakin's body glowed brightly, so brightly it was getting hard to look at them.

_Change, change, CHANGE._

The artifact pulsed under Obi-Wan's hands and became scalding hot, radiating incredible power. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut as the light became overwhelming, the Force around them swirling and thickening until he could barely breathe.

Then there was an explosion of power, and Obi-Wan was thrown back against the chamber's wall, his head hitting it hard.

Groaning, Obi-Wan opened his eyes blearily. His ears were still ringing from the impact and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. He wondered if he had a concussion.

A weak groan made him freeze.

His heart in his throat, Obi-Wan focused his eyes on the man who was pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"What the kark?" the man said, looking around before his gaze focused on Obi-Wan. "Master?" he said in a bewildered tone, blinking his blue eyes.

Obi-Wan couldn't breathe.

He definitely couldn't talk. He could only stare hungrily at the familiar, beloved features, the golden-brown hair, those beautiful blue eyes--and that healthy, powerful body. 

It had worked.

It had actually worked.

"Master?" Anakin said, his brows drawing close. "Where's your beard? Why do you look so young?" He glanced around the small chamber, his frown deepening. "Where are we? Have we been captured by someone? And why the kark are we naked?"

Obi-Wan's breathing caught in his throat. Anakin didn't remember. Of course. Although Obi-Wan's memory of his ritual was vague, Vader had told him that Obi-Wan couldn't remember anything that happened past the age of his new body, either. Vader had had to use their bond to find and restore the suppressed memories.

Obi-Wan could do the same.

_Or not._

His pulse quickening, Obi-Wan sat up, not looking away from Anakin.

This Anakin didn't have any memory of his Fall.

Or Mustafar.

"Master, you are scaring me," Anakin said, moving closer to him. "What did they do to you? Do you have a concussion?" Looming over Obi-Wan, he brought two fingers before his face. "How many fingers do you see?"

He looked so concerned. So protective. So very _Anakin_.

A sob left Obi-Wan's throat, strangled and weak.

"Master?" Anakin said, his concern palpable in the Force.

Obi-Wan could only stare at him. Truth be told, he was irrationally afraid that Anakin would disappear if he averted his gaze even for a moment.

With a trembling hand, Obi-Wan reached out and touched that beloved face. "Anakin," he whispered, already feeling his loss profoundly.

Because even if Obi-Wan chose not to restore Anakin's memories, they would likely return one day. Not to mention that he couldn't keep lying to Anakin forever; he would find out, eventually, and the consequences of deceiving him wouldn't be pleasant. It would be the Rako Hardeen debacle all over again, only much worse, since Vader wasn't as forgiving as Anakin. It was bad enough he already had one secret he was hiding from Vader: his children.

There was also another matter to consider: Obi-Wan could feel the Dark Side at the edges of Anakin's Force signature; it wasn't gone, just as Vader wasn't, not truly.

So no, lying wasn't an option. Keeping this version of Anakin--the uncorrupted, kind, and loyal one-- wasn't an option. It would be just a beautiful lie.

His vision blurry, Obi-Wan cradled Anakin's face with his hands. "I want you to know that I have always loved you, dear one. Always."

Anakin's eyes widened.

Obi-Wan said hoarsely, "My greatest regret is that I have never told you that until it was too late."

"Obi-Wan--"

"I'm going to do something now," Obi-Wan cut him off. "It will likely feel strange, but I need you not to resist."

There was a great deal of confusion in Anakin's eyes, but he nodded. "Of course, Master," he said simply, and a lump formed in Obi-Wan's throat, his heart clenching and his eyes stinging again.

He reached through their bond and _pushed_, opening the muted connection between them again and plunging deep into Anakin's mind until he found the block, the overwritten memories hidden deep in Anakin's psyche. He could sense Vader's memories behind that mental wall. He really wasn't gone.

Obi-Wan braced himself and ripped the wall down, letting the fires of Mustafar burn through Anakin's mind, choking on heat and rage and grief.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done: letting go of Anakin--again.

When he opened his eyes and was met with Darth Vader's harder expression and yellow-tinted eyes, Obi-Wan felt a sense of crushing loss, but at the same time, he was...relieved that he no longer had to look his former padawan in the eye and pretend that everything was fine.

Nothing had been fine ever since he saw the bodies in the Temple.

"I have wondered if you would try to lie to me," Vader said. "If you would try to keep me from remembering." He smiled, his golden eyes shining, his Force signature wrapping possessively around Obi-Wan's. "But I knew you wouldn't."

"Did you?" Obi-Wan said, trembling as their unnatural connection flared to life again. "Then you were more certain than me."

"The naive boy I once was wouldn't understand the man you now are, Obi-Wan. He didn't live through what you lived through. Only I can understand."

Obi-Wan couldn't say anything to that, so Anakin's gaze shifted to his own arms and legs. He stared at them with a very strange expression. Then he took Obi-Wan's hand and stroked their fingers together, and an odd, intense pleasure spread through their bond. "Oh," Anakin breathed out. He looked--and felt--_high_, as if they weren't simply touching hands but doing something overwhelmingly good. Taking Obi-Wan's hand, Anakin brought it to his own face, his neck, his chest, his pupils dilating.

Obi-Wan felt his face burn. He was suddenly very aware of their state of undress.

He tried to retrieve his hand, but Anakin grip only tightened, his golden eyes narrowing, his gaze somehow both desperate and hateful.

"Touch me," Anakin ordered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the rating of this story has been changed to Explicit and there's content that some readers might find objectionable, though Vader doesn't force Obi-Wan to do anything he doesn't want to do.

* * *

* * *

"Touch me," Anakin said again.

Obi-Wan swallowed. He could feel the hard, erratic beat of the Sith's heart under his hand.

His face rather warm, Obi-Wan wrenched his hand away and curled it in his lap. "That would be inappropriate," he said stiffly, getting to his feet and looking at the hatch. His skin prickled under Anakin's intense gaze. Obi-Wan avoided it. "How do you open the chamber?"

Anakin got to his feet--and immediately tripped. "Kark!"

Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise before realizing that Anakin must have become used to his longer artificial limbs. He couldn't deny that seeing Anakin blinking in confusion as he stared at his own legs made his heart clench. Obi-Wan averted his gaze again, trying to ignore the strange way Anakin was breathing, too: as if he kept forgetting that he needed to.

Finally, the Sith seemed to remember how human bodies worked--he moved. But not toward the hatch. Toward Obi-Wan.

"You will do as I say," he bit out, golden eyes narrowed in anger as he grabbed Obi-Wan's arm and yanked him close.

Obi-Wan grunted as their chests collided. "What do you think you are doing?" he said, giving Anakin his best unimpressed look.

Unfortunately, it seemed completely lost on Anakin: his eyes were glazed over, that stange, intense pleasure spreading through their bond again like fire over the forest.

Obi-Wan tried to block it, to give himself some ability to think, but his efforts were in vain. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as two strong arms clutched him close with the desperation that was both terrifying and immensely satisfying. _Need this, need you, missed you--mine--always---MINE MINE MINE._ The man against him was literally shaking with pleasure, his arms tightening around Obi-Wan as he nuzzled erratically into Obi-Wan's neck. _MINE MINE MINE._

Obi-Wan felt like he was at the mercy of a feral beast, a beast that could snap at any moment and devour him alive. The Force around them was going _wild_, as feral and intense as the Dark creature clutching him in its arms.

He did not know what to do. All he could feel was overwhelmed. Bizarrely, Obi-Wan didn't feel any fear even if he couldn't sense any semblance of rational thought in Anakin.

Slowly, he brought his hands up and stroked Anakin's back, awkwardly at first before his instincts, old but not forgotten, kicked in. His hands knew how to comfort his padawan and calm him down.

"I'm here," Obi-Wan whispered, threading his fingers through Anakin's hair, his other hand stroking Anakin's back. "I'm here, dearheart." The old endearment, one he hadn't used in over a decade, slipped out of his mouth before Obi-Wan could stop himself.

Anakin shuddered, clutching him even tighter and mouthing at Obi-Wan's neck with the desperation of a ravenous beast that wanted too much but was too overwhelmed to do anything.

Obi-Wan's face became warm as he felt an unmistakable hardness press against his stomach. At the same time, the Sith sank his teeth into his neck and _sucked_.

And of course, Obi-Wan's body reacted in a very predictable fashion, and all the friction and naked skin certainly weren't helping matters.

"Anakin, don't," he tried, but his voice sounded weak and unconvincing even to his own ears. He felt warm all over, his skin tight and oversensitive.

"Why not, _Master_?" Anakin said with a nasty edge to his voice. "It's not like we have never done this before. Though, with the way you pretended that nothing happened, it might as well not have happened at all."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, a fresh wave of burning shame hitting him. "Because it was a mistake. It was very wrong, and it would be exponentially more wrong now."

"You're a hypocrite, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his hand wrapping around Obi-Wan's aching length trapped between their bodies.

Obi-Wan swallowed back his moan, his knees going weak as all the blood in his body seemed to surge to his throbbing erection.

"You have always been such a hypocrite," the Sith said into his ear, teeth biting at the sensitive lobe and dragging it downwards. "It always amazed me how you could put on your perfect Jedi act even though you were kriffing your former padawan behind your precious Council's back." He chuckled harshly, his hand still stroking lazily Obi-Wan's erection. "Do you remember the Rylin battle? You answered Yoda's holo call and gave him your report like a good little Jedi, as if you didn't still have my come leaking out of you."

"You have no room to talk, Anakin," Obi-Wan managed in his steadiest voice, which he suspected wasn't very steady. "Considering that you were apparently 'kriffing' your former Master behind your _wife's_ back." Obi-Wan was ashamed of his inability to hold the bitterness out of his voice. It wasn't jealousy or anything petty like that. Obi-Wan had no reason to feel jealous or betrayed: he had long suspected that Anakin had something of a casual affair with Senator Amidala, something that had started long before the _thing_ between him and Anakin. Obi-Wan was more hurt that Anakin hadn't trusted him enough to tell him that he had _married_ her--and that apparently Anakin had been cheating on his wife on top of that--and making Obi-Wan unknowingly complicit in his adultery.

Though, in the grand scheme of things, learning about Anakin's marriage had been nothing. Obi-Wan's world had already collapsed before that: when he saw the security recording of Anakin kneeling for Sidious and calling him Master. That had been far more sickening and hurtful than the news of Anakin's marriage.

Strictly speaking, he and Anakin hadn't been _anything_; Obi-Wan knew that, had always known that, and discovering that Anakin had a wife was just another confirmation of that.

The desperate, adrenaline-fueled sex caused by the heat of the battle, when they both were sweaty, bloody, and worked up, had meant very little. Just a way for brothers in arms to reaffirm that they were alive for another day, nothing more.

He and Anakin had never even spoken about it. It had been just something they did, sometimes. Anakin often wouldn't even look at him afterwards, radiating shame and guilt, and in retrospect, Obi-Wan now understood _why_. In retrospect, it made their ill-advised activities even more morally wrong.

Obi-Wan couldn't even remember _when_ it had started, when their platonic relationship became less than platonic.

He couldn't remember the name of the battle or where Ahsoka had been.

He remembered turning his head and meeting Anakin's dark gaze. He remembered the space between them shrinking until they were finally kissing, mouths desperate and hungry. He remembered them rutting together, fast and hard, Anakin's hands engulfing their erections and stroking them in jerky, uncoordinated movements as they sought their release.

They could barely look at each other afterwards. Soon, there was another crisis that needed their attention, another battle that needed to be fought, and Obi-Wan assumed it had been just a one-time occurrence, a mistake they wouldn't repeat.

He had been wrong.

A few battles later, Obi-Wan found himself on his back under his former padawan's heavy body, Anakin's thick cock stretching his body in ways Obi-Wan hadn't thought could possibly feel good. But feel good it did. Obi-Wan had to bite his own hand to muffle his moans--their men were just outside the tent, after all--as Anakin moved inside him with powerful, hungry thrusts, their mutual want and need making Obi-Wan's head spin.

Afterwards, Obi-Wan had tried to tell himself that it wouldn't happen again, but a few weeks later, he found himself under Anakin again, getting fucked until he could no longer speak or think. It happened again, and again, and again, so often that Obi-Wan barely needed any preparation for Anakin's cock, so used to it he was.

Sometimes it was the reverse: sometimes Anakin gripped Obi-Wan's hips hard and rode him with angry abandon, his expression almost pained and his eyes squeezed close as he came apart on Obi-Wan's cock.

But those nights were relatively rare; Anakin liked being the aggressor, and Obi-Wan had found that he preferred to be on the receiving end of penetration as well. For one thing, it made him feel less guilty and ashamed. Anakin had been his padawan, after all. Obi-Wan had _raised_ him. Assuming the submissive role made Obi-Wan feel a little bit less like a disgusting predator.

And truth be told, he simply enjoyed being penetrated more. He enjoyed the way Anakin felt on top of him and inside of him, the way Anakin fucked him, relentless and desperate. Obi-Wan had always been a giver by nature; giving his body to his padawan had felt like a natural step in their relationship, no matter how morally wrong it was.

Anakin scoffed, tearing Obi-Wan out of his memories. "Padmé had nothing to do with what we did," he said, sucking bruises on Obi-Wan's neck while his hand continued stroking his erection.

"Of course," Obi-Wan said, not without sarcasm. "I'm sure that's what you told yourself."

Anakin snarled and slammed their mouths together.

Obi-Wan would like to say that he didn't enjoy the kiss, but that would be a lie. He would like to say that he just passively endured it, but he was kissing back, ashamed of the needy, increasingly loud moans slipping out his mouth as Anakin's mouth devoured his, and his raging thoughts filled his mind.

_She loved me, unconditionally; you refused to even admit you felt anything at all. You gave me your body, but you were never mine. I hated you, for making me betray my wife and not even giving me what I needed from you. You acted as if nothing happened between us, as if I meant nothing to you, and I hated it--hated you--and hated myself for wanting more. I was a fool. I couldn't see you were already mine: body, mind, and soul._

Anakin's thoughts were tinged with such insane possessiveness it made Obi-Wan shiver in alarm. But to his shame, his body loved it: his cock grew impossibly harder in Anakin's hand, his hips bucking into the touch and his mouth sucking on the Sith's tongue with the eagerness that ashamed him.

He had just been alone for so long. He may not be as touch-starved as Anakin was, but Obi-Wan had known only his own touch in the past four years. He had been weak for Anakin even as a middle-aged man; his younger, more sensitive body stood no chance.

"_My life belongs to the Jedi, not you_," he still tried, almost incoherent with pleasure and want. Anakin's hand had now gripped them both, hardness against hardness, and was stroking them faster, his mouth alternating between devouring Obi-Wan's mouth and leaving nasty hickeys all over his neck and jawline.

"Liar," Anakin said, sucking over his pulse as their hips bucked and ground against each other. It was messy, dirty, and utterly undignified, not unlike the first time they'd done this during the Clone Wars, but this time it was utterly wrong in ways it hadn't been even back then. Obi-Wan should not be letting this happen, Anakin was a Sith now, an enemy--a--_ah_\--

Obi-Wan came with a cry, and his orgasm triggered Anakin's, their double pleasure exploding between them in shock waves and leaving them weak and dazed, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it.

They sank to the floor, still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure--wrong, forbidden pleasure that should never be shared between a Jedi and a Sith.

Obi-Wan stared dazedly at the chamber's ceiling, Anakin's body a familiar weight on top of him.

_What now?_

When he had chosen this course of action--to attempt to reason with Vader and restore his body if he really was still Anakin--Obi-Wan had never thought that it would result in _this_. In the best case scenario he had hoped for, he had thought Anakin would simply let him go when Obi-Wan was of no use to him anymore. He hadn't even imagined that they would fall back into... Obi-Wan didn't even know _what_ to call what they had been doing during the Clone Wars.

They had never been lovers. Frankly, Obi-Wan had never thought of Anakin as his lover. Anakin was his padawan, his comrade, his brother, his world--but never a lover, no matter how many times Anakin had put his cock inside him. Obi-Wan hadn't _allowed_ himself to think of Anakin as his lover. What they used to do... it had been a dirty little secret, one they had never acknowledged aloud, even when they were alone--even while they were doing it.

A mirthless smile twisted Obi-Wan's lips.

It was rather ironic that it had taken Anakin becoming a Sith, slaughtering the Jedi Order, and killing his wife before they finally spoke about it.

"Stop thinking so loudly," Anakin said into his chest. "You're ruining my afterglow."

"My apologies, Lord Vader," Obi-Wan said sardonically.

"Don't call me that."

Obi-Wan looked at the top of Anakin's head and raised his eyebrows. "I seem to distinctly remember you wanting me to call you Vader."

Anakin lifted his head, his golden eyes meeting Obi-Wan's. He looked like a sated, dangerous cat. "I've changed my mind. I find that I rather like how my old name sounds when you cry it out."

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks become hot. No matter how many times they'd had sex in the past, he wasn't exactly used to actually discussing it. "That was a mistake that will never happen again."

Anakin _laughed_, a full-body laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

Obi-Wan stared, his heart clenching painfully as he realized that it had been _years_ since he had last seen Anakin laugh like that--before the Clone Wars, probably.

"Come on, Obi-Wan," Anakin finally said, still smiling that disturbingly beautiful smile. "We both know it's a lie." His smile dropped. He suddenly shifted forward on his propped elbow, looming over Obi-Wan, all golden eyes and dark intensity.

Obi-Wan swallowed, unable to look away.

Anakin cupped Obi-Wan's cheek with his free hand, the touch so gentle it seemed mocking. "We both know we couldn't stop doing this even when you had your Jedi Council to worry about--and when I had a wife I loved. Now we have neither." He leaned down and spoke against Obi-Wan's lips. "You can't hide behind your precious Code anymore, Obi-Wan. _You. are. mine_."


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

* * *

Obi-Wan was meditating when he felt Anakin approach their quarters.

Their quarters. What a ridiculous, strange notion, but it was true nonetheless. Ever since the ritual, Obi-Wan hadn't been allowed to leave Anakin's quarters at all. Obi-Wan didn't know how Anakin explained it to his subordinates. But then again, Darth Vader didn't have to explain himself to anyone, and Anakin was still Darth Vader, regardless of the face he now wore.

Not that any of the Imperial officers had a clue that the man under that intimidating black armor was in any way different now. Obi-Wan had been skeptical of Anakin's ability to pull it off--the armor had been made for a taller man, after all, and its primary function was life support--but it had taken Anakin just a day to modify the armor accordingly. The height difference issue had been resolved with a pair of boots that added considerable height to Anakin's body, boots that Anakin wore under the suit. He walked rather stiffly, in Obi-Wan's opinion, but it was unlikely that anyone else noticed the difference--the servants of the Empire seemed to prefer avoiding looking at Vader altogether. And as Obi-Wan could attest, people saw only what they wanted to see.

The door finally opened, and the black-armored figure stalked inside. The door slid shut with a hiss.

Obi-Wan could feel that Anakin was angered by something, his dark emotions swirling around him and spilling into Obi-Wan through their bond.

"Idiots, every single one of them," Anakin said, Darth Vader's mechanical voice making Obi-Wan shiver. There was still something about seeing Anakin in that armor that unnerved him greatly--it reminded him of the wide chasm that still separated them, no matter how much like Anakin Vader now looked out of his armor.

It was also undeniable that putting on that armor tended to put Anakin in a foul mood, reminding him of the years he'd spent as its prisoner.

"Are your minions less slavish than you expected?" Obi-Wan said dryly, as if he wasn't trembling faintly with the need to have Anakin closer, the unnatural bond between them tightening, pulsing hungrily. It was unbearable.

"Don't test me, Obi-Wan," Anakin said in Vader's voice, walking toward him in full armor.

Obi-Wan was surprised. Anakin usually couldn't seem to remove the suit fast enough; he clearly detested it. But this time he seemed to be in no hurry.

Vader's black-gloved hand grabbed Obi-Wan's throat and yanked him up to his knees.

Obi-Wan looked at the black mask. "What is the matter, Anakin?" he said calmly--or as calmly as he could manage when Anakin was finally inside his mind, their bond sending waves of that strange, intense pleasure through his body.

"I just had a very important meeting with the admiral of my fleet," Anakin said in Vader's voice. "Except I couldn't kriffing _focus_. All I could think about was you. You ruin everything, as usual." He yanked Obi-Wan's face closer, pushing it against Vader's crotch. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to have an erection in this armor?"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile in amusement. "My heart bleeds for you," he said wryly.

Anakin made an irritated sound and removed the part of his suit that covered the top of his hips. His cock sprang free, red and rock-hard. His hand on Obi-Wan's throat tightening, Anakin pushed his face toward his leaking cock. "Suck, Master."

Obi-Wan shivered. He couldn't deny that being addressed as _Master_ while he was on his knees was more arousing than it should have been.

He felt Anakin's dark amusement through their bond. "You like this," he said, slowly feeding Obi-Wan his cock. "How long have you wanted this, Master? When I was your _padawan_? How many cocks did you suck imagining that it was mine?"

Obi-Wan couldn't exactly speak because of the thick length inside his mouth, but to his shame, Anakin's words weren't far from the truth. His gaze had started lingering appreciatively on Anakin's muscles when Anakin was still his padawan, a shameful attraction Obi-Wan had tried to purge out of his system by meditating--and when that didn't work, by sleeping with men who looked similar to his padawan. He had succeeded, more or less--until the..._ thing_ between them during the Clone Wars.

"I wish I knew," Anakin said in Vader's voice as he started fucking Obi-Wan's mouth in earnest. "You could have been mine for years. All _mine_. If I knew that all I had to do was stick my cock into you to get your attention, I would have done that when I was a kriffing teenager. I certainly wanted to. You gave me my first erection, first wet dream. You were so _infuriating_, but so damn pretty. Every time you lectured me, I wanted to stuff your mouth with my cock."

_"Stop talking, Anakin,"_ Obi-Wan said through the bond, since his mouth was rather occupied. His face was hot with shame and embarrassment, but he felt so aroused he could feel his cock leaking.

"Touch yourself," Vader ordered while Anakin's voice crooned in his mind, "_I know you want to. Come on, Master. There's no one here to see how depraved you are. No one but me. Touch your cock for me, Obi-Wan."_

Obi-Wan did, his face burning as he pulled his aching erection out of his pants and started stroking it in time with Anakin's thrusts. It _was_ depraved. It was obscene. He was on his knees in front of Darth Vader, stroking his cock desperately as Vader fucked his mouth.

But his shame wasn't stronger than his desire. Their double pleasure made it difficult to focus on anything but their need, and soon Anakin was coming into his mouth, his seed hot and salty.

"Swallow," Vader ordered, holding him still.

Obi-Wan swallowed greedily, still jerking his own cock, hard and fast. Vader removed his gloves, and Anakin's flesh hands started petting his hair, his sensitive ears, his neck. "_That's it, Obi-Wan,"_ Anakin said breathlessly in his mind. "_You're so beautiful. Come for me, Master."_

Obi-Wan did, moaning against Anakin's thigh, his pleasure so strong it made Anakin shudder, too.

"Kriff, I think I've forgotten how good sex felt," Anakin said, removing his helmet. "I don't remember it being so good."

Dazedly, Obi-Wan looked up at him, his mind still foggy with pleasure. He could see the same intoxicating pleasure in Anakin's golden eyes.

He could feel Anakin start hardening again.

Obi-Wan gave him an incredulous look.

Anakin laughed harshly, removing his armor. "My cock was broken for four years," he said, though his voice lacked the usual resentment. "Forgive me if I'm still making up for the lost time. And you can hardly throw stones, Obi-Wan." He looked meaningfully at Obi-Wan's own hardening penis.

"Well, that's hardly my fault," Obi-Wan said, getting to his feet fluidly. He had to admit he certainly didn't miss his aging body. The agility of youth was truly a wonderful thing. "It is the bond's doing," Obi-Wan said, though he wasn't sure their bond was entirely to blame for the insatiable hunger that plagued this young body.

Anakin grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the air mattress in the corner.

One downside of keeping Vader's cover was the fact that Anakin couldn't order a real bed to be delivered to his quarters without arousing suspicion. But the air mattress that Anakin had been able to get somewhere was comfortable enough--and soft enough as Anakin shoved Obi-Wan onto it and sprawled on top of him like a big, dangerous feline.

"Hold me," Anakin demanded.

After weeks of this, Obi-Wan wasn't even surprised anymore. He obediently secured his arms around Anakin's wide back and held him tightly as Anakin nuzzled against Obi-Wan's chest and lazily sucked on his nipples. From experience, Obi-Wan knew this would continue for a while. Anakin seemed to take strange comfort in this act, like an infant took comfort in his mother's teat. Except that analogy didn't work well, because this usually ended with Anakin pushing his cock inside him and fucking him until Obi-Wan couldn't remember his own name.

"Sidious has summoned me," Anakin volunteered suddenly before moving to the other nipple.

Obi-Wan bit his lip hard to stop himself from moaning as Anakin's tongue teased the sensitive bud. "Has he?" he managed.

Anakin hummed. "_Yes. I'm going to kill him,"_ he told Obi-Wan through the bond, since his mouth was busy sucking on Obi-Wan's nipple.

"That's--that's good," Obi-Wan said, gasping as Anakin's teeth scraped him.

"_I will be the Emperor,"_ Anakin said, kissing and biting Obi-Wan's pecs. "_And bring peace and prosperity to my Empire."_

A thought niggled at the back of Obi-Wan's aroused mind, but it was difficult to focus when Anakin's mouth was sucking on his nipple and his hand was stroking Obi-Wan's cock.

"Are you still slick from this morning?" Anakin said, his finger traveling down and pressing against Obi-Wan's opening. He pushed his finger in. "You're so loose already, Master."

Flushing, Obi-Wan let out a small sound as Anakin added another finger. "That is your fault," he said. He was always slick and loose these days, always ready for Anakin's cock because of how often they did this. Soreness wasn't an issue, since they used bacta for lubricant, so nothing stopped them from slaking their desires four or five times a day. Obi-Wan had never felt so decadent in his life, never felt so insatiable. It greatly ashamed him, but there was little he could do about it. His body _ached_ for Anakin. The bigger issue was, his foolish heart ached for Anakin too, no matter what his rational side said. Compared to his foolish heart's longing, his body's craving was certainly less disturbing.

When Anakin pushed inside him, thick, familiar, and utterly perfect, Obi-Wan moaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. It felt so good. "Anakin," he whispered, digging his fingers into Anakin's hard buttocks and urging him deeper. "My Anakin."

"Master," Anakin whispered, pulling out and slamming back into him.

Obi-Wan groaned and wrapped his legs around Anakin's waist. He loved feeling his padawan's cock inside him, feeling Anakin's heavy, powerful body on top of him, taking him, claiming him.

He lost himself to the sensation, the obscene slap of skin against skin and their grunts the only sounds in the room for a while.

But soon, his moans grew in volume as Anakin's thrusts became harder, faster, his cock pistoning against Obi-Wan's prostate over and over and over. _Anakin, Anakin, Anakin._

Obi-Wan climaxed again, crying out Anakin's name as his hole clenched around his former padawan's cock.

Anakin groaned and spilled deep inside him, his hips still grinding into him for a few moments before he finally stopped and sagged on top of him, heavy, sweaty, and perfect.

Anakin's mouth sought out his, and they simply kissed for a while, needy and desperate for each other. It felt _unbearably_ intimate, even more intimate than the sex.

When they finally parted, it took Obi-Wan a while for his mind to focus on anything that wasn't _Anakin, my Anakin._

He opened his eyes and looked at the Sith he was sharing the pillow with. Their faces were so close Obi-Wan could see every golden eyelash framing Anakin's golden eyes.

"Do you really think killing Sidious will be so simple?" he said quietly. "I think you are underestimating him."

Anakin's brows furrowed, his jaw tensing. But he didn't snap or get offended that Obi-Wan was "underestimating" him. Obi-Wan found that Anakin was much more agreeable after their sexual activities.

"I have little choice," Anakin said. "The longer I wait, the bigger the risk that he will learn about you, and then he will start suspecting me, and any element of surprise will be gone."

Obi-Wan chewed on his lip, hesitating. "If you give me a lightsaber, I can help you."

Anakin stared at him. "You want to help me?" he said in a strange tone. His yellow eyes were narrowed suspiciously, but Obi-Wan could sense the _longing_ in him. Anakin wanted it. A part of Anakin wanted them to be the Team again, no matter what he said.

It made Obi-Wan's heart ache for what they had once been.

He nodded, looking Anakin in the eye. "I will help you kill Sidious. It is one goal I can fully support."

A slow, small smile appeared on Anakin's face and quickly turned into a beautiful grin that made Obi-Wan's heart skip a beat.

He had to look away to stop himself from returning it.

_A Sith_, he reminded himself. Anakin was a Sith. A murderer of innocents.

The mere fact that he had to remind himself of that was more than a little worrying.

Force, what was he doing?


	7. Chapter 7

Obi-Wan was honest enough with himself to admit that he had imagined killing Sidious numerous times over the past four years. It wasn't the Jedi way, to imagine killing a living being, and killing it in revenge, but he could never banish those thoughts, no matter how hard he had tried. Sidious had taken everything from him: his home, his family, his friends--and his apprentice. If there was one being Obi-Wan hated, it was Sidious.

And yet, as he and Anakin entered Sidious's throne room in the Imperial Palace, all Obi-Wan could feel was the desire to get it over with, the desire to remove Sidious from the Jedi Temple as quickly as possible. It didn't matter that the Imperial Palace had been so redecorated that it barely resembled the Temple. These were the walls Obi-Wan had called home all his life, and having Sidious living here, poisoning this place, felt unthinkable. It made Obi-Wan nauseous.

They had prepared as best for this as they could: Anakin was wearing his armor and his mannerisms now were nearly indistinguishable from Vader's. Obi-Wan was wearing a stormtrooper armor and a Force-blocking bracelet to mask his presence from Sidious. His lightsaber was hidden in his armor but could be easily accessed if he needed it.

All things considered, it should have been simple. The plan was for Anakin to strike Sidious when he least expected it, take him by surprise without any heroics: a clean, efficient kill. Obi-Wan was supposed to be just a backup, in case something would go wrong.

He should have known something would go wrong.

After all, when had Anakin ever stuck to a plan? He was terrible at it as a Jedi, and apparently he was even worse as a Sith.

"At last, Lord Vader," Sidious said, sneering at Vader's armored figure. "You have made me wait--"

The only thing Anakin did according to their plan was the swiftness of his attack: he ignited his lightsaber and struck Sidious--cutting off his _arm_, and then the other.

Obi-Wan noise of dismayed surprise was completely swallowed by the agonizing howl Sidious let out.

"Kill him!" he snarled at his guards, trying to get to his feet.

The guards ignited their red lightsabers, but Obi-Wan could sense the hesitation in them even without the Force.

"I am your new Emperor," Anakin told them in Vader's low, gravelly voice. "Attack me and you will all die. Swear your loyalty to me and you will keep your positions."

"Kill him!" Sidious snarled again from the floor. "He is a trait--" His words turned into another howl as Anakin cut off his leg, then the other. Sidious's limbless body fell to the floor, his eyes glazing with agony as he wheezed.

"Leave us," Anakin ordered the guards.

After a moment, they looked at each other and left, one after another.

Vader's heavy boot stomped on Sidious's chest, stealing his breath away. "How does it feel, being so helpless, my Master?" he said, his tone mock-respectful. "You enjoyed seeing me reduced to this state, did you not? Maimed, I was easy to control. You knew there were ways for me to regain a healthy body, but you chose not to give me one, to keep me in this pathetic state, always in pain. What does it feel like, _Sheev_? Too feel weak and dependent on another."

Sidious glared up at him, his eyes full of rage. "Once a traitor, always a traitor, I see. You can kill me, Lord Vader, but it will not fix your body, or bring back your wife or your Kenobi." He smiled, the smile ugly and gleefull. "You lost _everything_\--"

"That's where you are wrong," Anakin growled, bringing his foot on Sidious's chest again, making him whimper as his body was jostled. Anakin took the helmet off and smiled at Sidious, his golden eyes full of hatred and triumph. "I would have gotten rid of you years ago, but I was too slow and my body was too vulnerable to your Force lightning. Now I am stronger than ever, and you are _nothing_. Nothing but an old, weak man."

Sidious stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was that shocked or if he was finally going into shock from pain.

"No, you will not die so easily," Anakin said with a twisted little smile. "A quick death would be too merciful for you, my former Master. I will keep you alive, barely, and cut you piece by piece, for years to come."

Goosebumps ran up Obi-Wan's spine.

He finally unfroze and removed his helmet before retrieving his lightsaber. It slipped into his hand, its weight a little unfamiliar but comforting.

He walked to the two Siths, ignited his lightsaber, and pierced it through Sidious's heart.

Watching the life go out of Sidious's eyes was _immensely_ satisfying, Obi-Wan couldn't deny it--as was the knowledge that his face was the last thing Sidious had seen before his death.

_This is for my brothers and sisters. This is for thousands of lives you corrupted and ruined. This is for stealing from me the boy I raised and loved more than anything._

As expected, Anakin's fury was swift and explosive. "I wasn't done with him!"

Switching his lightsaber off, Obi-Wan calmly removed his Force-blocker. He sighed as the Force rushed back into him. Was it his imagination or did the Force feel less dark already?

"You had no right to do it, Obi-Wan! I wasn't kriffing done."

He turned to Anakin, stepped closer. He cradled Anakin's face with his hands, and looked into those furious golden eyes. "There is revenge, and then there is unnecessary cruelty. You are better than that, Anakin."

Anakin glowered at him, his jaw working, his rage making the air thick. "How dare you--"

Obi-Wan kissed him on the mouth, very softly.

Anakin went rigid, his muscles still stiff with anger. "You will not distract me with this, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan gave him another soft kiss, and then another, keeping them short and sweet.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin bit out, but Obi-Wan could feel him relaxing, his anger softening into annoyance. His lips started responding, Anakin's hand burying in Obi-Wan's hair and gripping it tightly as Anakin's tongue slipped into Obi-Wan's mouth, the kiss hungry and possessive. _He's wrong, he was wrong, you're still mine, I haven't lost you._ He covered Obi-Wan's face and neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. _You're mine, he was wrong, you're still mine, you will never leave me._

Obi-Wan made an affirmative sound, wrapping his Force signature around Anakin's, and opening his mind completely to allow Anakin inside him. He could sense Anakin's thoughts, hungry and filthy. 

_He wanted to spread Obi-Wan out on the floor right next to Sidious's cooling corpse and have him right there, rut into him, prove to Sidious that Obi-Wan was still his, that he would always be his._

"That would be rather morbid, Anakin," Obi-Wan told him, amused and, to his shame, more than a little aroused.

Admittedly, Obi-Wan was growing rather accustomed to the ever-present arousal that plagued them since the ritual. It should have been perhaps alarming how often they had sex, their bodies insatiable and hungry for each other, but it wasn't. It had started to feel like the new normal, this need to be one. In fact, Obi-Wan hadn't even thought to protest when Anakin wanted to fuck him in the shuttle on their way here.

The memory of it was still fresh on his mind: of Anakin's fingers gripping his hips hard as Obi-Wan rode him, of Anakin spouting filth in his ear (_you feel so good around me, Master; how are you so tight when you fuck like a schutta, Master?)_, each _Master_ making Obi-Wan's cock harder and something inside his chest loosen.

Obi-Wan tore himself from his thoughts and forced the inappropriate arousal away. "I draw a line at copulating next to Sidious's corpse, Anakin," he said dryly.

Anakin laughed, all trace of anger gone from his face. He kissed Obi-Wan's mouth, surprisingly gentle for him, and murmured, "Later."

Obi-Wan shivered, his stomach warm.

Pulling back, Anakin looked at Sidious's body with a strange expression.

A ball of Force lightning appeared in his hand.

Obi-Wan frowned. "What are you doing? He's dead."

"We need to destroy the body so it can't be cloned," Anakin said, turning the Force lightning toward the corpse. "I'm sure Sidious had contingency plans. I will have to look into it."

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose in distaste as the smell of burning flesh filled the room.

When there was finally nothing left of the body but a pile of charred ash, Anakin laid his hand on Obi-Wan's lower back and said, "Let's go."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Where to?" He still wasn't sure what Anakin's plan was now that Sidious was dead.

A wide smile curled Anakin's lips. "To claim my Empire."

***

_One year later_

Obi-Wan watched Anakin sleep. He watched the fall and rise of his broad chest, watched the way his brows furrowed a little in his sleep, his dark-gold curls framing his face and making it look softer. Younger. More innocent and vulnerable.

Appearances could be so deceptive. This was the most powerful man in the galaxy.

The Coruscant moons were bright that night, illuminating the master bedroom in the Imperial Palace--not the one that Sidious used to occupy; a new one. These quarters used to be the ones he and Anakin shared as Master and Padawan. Obi-Wan had insisted on their old rooms when Anakin wouldn't budge on living somewhere that wasn't the Imperial Palace. Anakin had called him a sentimental fool but in the end had given in.

Although the quarters were now more richly decorated, they were still undoubtedly the same ones they had shared for years as Jedi, the larger bed being the biggest difference. It made Obi-Wan suspect he wasn't the only sentimental fool here.

It was both the source of joy and pain to live in the Jedi Temple once again. The pain was still there, of course, but Obi-Wan was relieved that the sight of the Temple littered with dead bodies would no longer be his last memory of it. It was surprisingly peaceful here, not much different from how it was before. The comforting hum of hundreds of other Force signatures was absent, of course, but the ancient building seemed to exude the Force by itself. It was soothing.

Obi-Wan had been afraid the Temple would be forever marred by the Jedi Purge, but it didn't seem to be the case. The walls didn't radiate death and suffering anymore; it didn't feel like a haunted place. Obi-Wan was both relieved and disturbed by that. He had expected that the Temple would be forever tainted by what had happened here.

When he had shared that thought with Anakin, the Sith had scoffed. "You taught me yourself how ancient this building is. It has seen hundreds of wars and plagues. The deaths of a few hundred people wouldn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things."

Obi-Wan supposed he was correct, but he had been rather angry with how flippant Anakin was about the subject.

_"Does it not bother you at all?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "To live in a place you killed so many innocents?"_

_Anakin looked away for a moment before looking Obi-Wan in the eye, his golden eyes unusually solemn. "Even if it does bother me--and I'm not saying it does--it is my burden to carry, not yours, Obi-Wan."_

_Obi-Wan eyed him thoughtfully. He had long suspected that living in the Temple was some kind of twisted punishment Anakin had chosen for himself, but it was one of the things Anakin refused to talk about._

_Obi-Wan swallowed. "As your teacher, I am--"_

_"Not responsible for everything I do," Anakin snapped, glowering at him. "Don't get me wrong, Master: there are things you are absolutely at fault for, but me killing a bunch of younglings the clones would have killed anyway isn't one of them. If it comforts you, I granted them quick, painless deaths they wouldn't have had otherwise."_

And that was that.

Obi-Wan had learned to let it go. He was no longer the Jedi he had once been. He was well aware who he shared his bed with. Although he called him Anakin, Obi-Wan didn't delude himself that Anakin wasn't Vader too: he very much was. Just because he was... softer with Obi-Wan, it didn't make Anakin redeemable and didn't absolve him of his crimes. He was a Sith Lord.

Obi-Wan still loved him.

He had tried to purge that love out of his soul, tried to convince himself that he was sleeping with the enemy because he had a plan to betray him, but deep in his heart, Obi-Wan knew the truth: he had always loved Anakin Skywalker and would always love him, whether he was a Sith or a Jedi. He wasn't capable of killing him or betraying him.

What he _could_ do was try to soften Anakin's hard edges. A Sith he might be, but Anakin still responded to affection and warmth, and seemed to crave them from _Obi-Wan_ in particular. Obi-Wan could calm Anakin and change his mind when nothing else could.

It had baffled Obi-Wan at first, but he had come to accept it as a fact.

After all, he wasn't the only one who noticed his influence on Anakin: it was the talk of the HoloNet.

In fact, Anakin's popularity as the Emperor could be largely contributed to Obi-Wan standing by his right side at every public event. The famous Negotiator and model Jedi being close to the new Emperor had seemed to greatly confuse the few anti-Empire rebel movements that still existed. Anakin's softer policies compared to Sidious's certainly helped him, too--as did the fact that very few people knew that he had been Darth Vader. As far as the galaxy was concerned, Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi had defeated the corrupt Emperor, and then Hero With No Fear had assumed the Emperor's role "for the good of the galaxy." The few people who knew the truth had been silenced--Anakin was absolutely ruthless and didn't tolerate traitors.

Of course, the remaining Jedi knew the truth. They were the ones Obi-Wan had been dreading facing the most, his guilt eating him alive at night. Was he doing the right thing? Yes, Anakin was much less cruel and more sensible thanks to his influence, but did it justify Obi-Wan's betraying the Jedi and helping a Sith?

The soft chime of his comlink made Obi-Wan stiffen. A glance at it confirmed that it was the message he had been waiting for for months.

Quietly, Obi-Wan got out of the bed.

His body still ached pleasantly after Anakin's attentions, and he stretched, trying to shake off the urge to slip back into the bed, curl up next to Anakin, and ignore his comlink.

No. He had to do this. He needed to do this.

With the last glance at his sleeping lover, Obi-Wan slipped into his robes and put his lightsaber into his belt. He didn't think he would need it--he hoped that he wouldn't need it--but Anakin had been furious the last time he left the palace unprotected.

His footsteps were quiet as he left their quarters. The two guards outside bowed to him.

Obi-Wan had tried to tell them numerous times that they didn't need to do it, but it was fruitless; for some reason, everyone in the palace treated him like... like he was the Emperor's husband.

To be fair to them, it was probably easy to make such assumptions when Obi-Wan had such an obvious influence on Anakin. If there was a problem, everyone, even politicians, came to Obi-Wan first, hoping that he would soften the blow and save them from the Emperor's wrath. It both exasperated Obi-Wan and amused him.

The guards treated him with utmost respect probably also because Obi-Wan was in charge of the palace's security and worked closely with them--which was why sneaking out of the heavily-guarded palace was incredibly easy for Obi-Wan.

The night was refreshingly cool on his flushed skin.

Obi-Wan walked quickly, wanting to be back in bed before Anakin could wake up. He was surprised he hadn't already--Anakin usually slept wrapped around him like Obi-Wan was his favorite plush toy, and whenever Obi-Wan didn't hold him, Anakin was in an absolutely terrible mood the next day.

Obi-Wan found himself smiling fondly at the thought. If only the HoloNet knew that the most important decisions for the Empire often depended on how well their Emperor was cuddled up at night. Obi-Wan's affection seemed to be like a powerful drug for Anakin; he didn't seem to get enough of it and would agree to pretty much anything when they held each other after sex. Such power over the most powerful, dangerous person in the galaxy often felt like an enormous responsibility--and a precious gift.

"Well, you look, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan flinched and came to a halt. He looked around the dark alley, but thankfully there didn't seem to be other people except for the small figure gazing up at him.

He swallowed, meeting the old Jedi's eyes.

"Master Yoda," he said, bowing. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I know... I know that you took great risk coming here, but I promise that I will protect you if you are caught."

Yoda hmmphed. "Confident in your influence, you are."

Obi-Wan flushed, suddenly acutely aware of Anakin's scent still clinging to him--and the scent of sex. He wondered if Master Yoda could smell it, too. If Master Yoda knew that he'd just spent hours getting fucked by the man who had played a not insignificant role in destroying their Order.

Even if Yoda couldn't smell it, he could certainly see the hickeys on Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to cover them with his hand.

"I will try to protect you," Obi-Wan said, dropping his gaze. "Ana-- the Emperor can be unpredictable."

Yoda snorted. "His name, afraid you are of saying. His name, I am well aware of." Silence. "Ashamed, you are. Guilt in you, I can sense."

Obi-Wan gave a clipped nod, still not looking at him.

Yoda smacked him lightly on the ankle with his walking stick. "Absolution for your sins, do you seek?"

Obi-Wan winced. "I... I do not know, Master. I know I do not deserve it. It is my fault that--"

"Pfft," Yoda said, smacking him again. "Already know, you do, how wrong the path you are walking is. Absolution get from me, you will not, and knew it when you came here." Yoda gave him a sharp, knowing look. "Picked a side, you already did. Certain of it, you wanted to be, did you not?"

Obi-Wan's heart started beating faster. "I do not know what you are talking about, Master."

Yoda's eyes seemed to look right into his soul. "If to betray Young Skywalker, I asked you, will you?"

Obi-Wan licked his dry lips. He imagined kissing Anakin and then striking him in the back. He imagined killing him in his sleep while Anakin was curled around him trustingly. He imagined making Anakin hate him _(I HATE YOU!)_\--no, he couldn't imagine it. He could not do it, for better or for worse. Not again. Never again.

"I can't, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly. "I am sorry."

Yoda just looked at him for a long moment before nodding and turning away.

"He was manipulated into Falling," Obi-Wan blurted out, _needing_ to say that. "Sidious groomed Anakin from his early childhood, right under our noses, filling his head with poison and doubts--doubts that we unknowingly confirmed by being hypocrites. Can a child be blamed for the mistakes of adults? The Council's unfounded suspicions and mistrust drove him to Palpatine. You and the Council have created a self-fulfilling prophecy!" Obi-Wan forced himself to stop and take a deep breath, already ashamed of his outburst, but glad that he had finally said it.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then Yoda's shoulders sagged. He looked back at Obi-Wan, his gaze dark and haunted. "Mistakes, we have all made. Change the past, we cannot, neither you nor I. Foolish, the Jedi were. Misguided. Proud. Corrupt. Paid for our mistakes, we did. Cling to the past, we cannot. Let go, you should, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan stared at him. "What do you mean, Master?" he whispered, unable to believe what he was hearing. Was he understanding that right?

"Absolution from me you do not need," Yoda said, looking at him with endless sadness. "Great many mistakes I have made. Absolution to anyone, I cannot give. Back into exile, I must go. Failed, I have. But much good, you can still do. Closer to the balance, the Force now is. Your guidance, he needs. His attachment the world might yet save."

Obi-Wan stared at him.

"Thank you, Master," he whispered at last, his throat tight with gratitude. "May the Force be with you, Master Yoda."

Yoda gave him a long look. "May the Force be with you, Padawan of my grandpadawan."

And then he was gone, leaving Obi-Wan alone in that alley.

"Well, color me surprised: the green troll actually admitted being wrong for once."

Obi-Wan tensed before sighing. "How long have you been here, Anakin?"

He felt Anakin unmask his Force signature.

Then strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him flush against a firm chest. "From the beginning," Anakin said. "You should be more careful, Obi-Wan. You weren't vigilant enough."

"You let Master Yoda go," Obi-Wan said, perplexed.

Anakin's buried his face against Obi-Wan's neck. "Force, you smell so good I could eat you."

Obi-Wan tried to ignore his tingling skin and the familiar heat sweeping through his body. "You let Master Yoda go," he repeated, puzzled.

Anakin scoffed, nuzzling into his neck. "The old fool is of no use to me. Though he was actually useful for once. Maybe now you will finally stop feeling guilty for being with me."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and closed it, unable to deny it.

Anakin was right. For the first time, it felt like he could actually be honest about his feelings without being crippled with guilt. Master Yoda might think Obi-Wan didn't need absolution from him, but his words still meant so much. Master Yoda's words finally eased the guilt and the shame that had been weighing him down for a year. They all had made mistakes. They all had to live with them. Having Master Yoda's tentative, reluctant permission to do as he wanted meant the world to him.

Smiling softly, Obi-Wan leaned his head back on Anakin's shoulder, looking at the star filled sky. "I love you, Anakin."

Anakin's body tensed behind him before his arms _crushed_ Obi-Wan against his chest so hard it almost hurt. He laughed into Obi-Wan's neck, the Force lighting up with his happiness and joy. "All right, I'm canceling the bounty on Yoda," he said, kissing Obi-Wan's neck.

"How benevolent of you," Obi-Wan said dryly, but he was smiling, his chest light with something that felt a lot like happiness. "What about the other Jedi?"

"Now you are just getting too cocky, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, but it didn't sound very convincing when he was kissing Obi-Wan's neck reverently. "Kriff, I want to live inside your skin."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, smiling faintly as he soaked up the hungry, possessive adoration filling their bond.

He knew it wouldn't always be easy. There would be days he would doubt his choices and his sanity. There would be days they would be bitter and angry with each other, their wounds reopened by hurtful reminders of their past. There would come a time for Obi-Wan to tell Anakin about his children--only when he was absolutely certain that Anakin was in a good place mentally to raise them--and Anakin would no doubt be furious with him for lying.

But at this moment, as Anakin kissed his neck reverently under Coruscant moons, Obi-Wan knew those things would be just temporary setbacks, that there was _nothing_ that would keep them apart.

If they could move on from Mustafar, they could move on from anything.

Obi-Wan often thought of their counterparts, of Ben and Anakin from another life, the Anakin who was no longer a Sith. It made him hopeful that it was possible to sway Anakin closer to the Gray area of the Force. And the knowledge that there were other dimensions, other lives where he and Anakin made better choices, was still immensely comforting.

Perhaps in another universe, in a better life, there was an Obi-Wan Kenobi who had managed to keep his Anakin from Falling. Perhaps in that other universe, the Jedi Order still existed and was thriving. Obi-Wan hoped with all his heart that it was true.

But if he was honest with himself, he was... happy with his life. That happiness might be selfish, the kind a Jedi should not feel, but Obi-Wan couldn't change the way he felt, couldn't eradicate the joy he felt as Anakin lavished him with affection.

He had never felt so cherished.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and turned around. He met Anakin's golden eyes and smiled wistfully, realizing that he didn't even miss their blue color anymore. He had come to accept it--accept Anakin for the person he now was, with all his flaws and Dark Side influence.

"What?" Anakin said, probably noticing his strange look.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan said softly. "Did you follow me because you thought I would betray you?"

Anakin tangled his fingers in Obi-Wan's hair and said, "No. I thought..." His lips thinned, his grip tightening. "I thought you might leave. You are _not_ allowed to leave me."

Obi-Wan almost rolled his eyes. For a ruthless Sith Lord, Anakin sometimes had these flashes of terrible insecurity and fear that he masked with rough treatment and demands. It was honestly quite ridiculous, because Obi-Wan could read him like an open book thanks to their bond.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Anakin," he said wryly. "Someone has to make sure you don't destroy the planet when you throw a temper tantrum."

Anakin grinned, ever so mercurial, and pressed their foreheads together. "That's a full-time job, Obi-Wan. Are you sure you are up for the task?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, threading his fingers through Anakin's curls. "Oh, I'm quite sure. I had a bratty padawan once. I assure you I can handle anything you might throw at me. He was a right terror."

"Was he?" Anakin murmured, rubbing their noses together.

"Indeed he was."

They stood in silence for a while, their mouths a hair's breadth apart, just drinking in each other's scent, their senses swimming with _comfort-need-want_.

"I love you," Anakin suddenly said, in a fierce, tight voice one might use to say _I hate you_. His arms tightened around Obi-Wan. "You are not allowed to leave me. I will _kill_ you if you do. Except you are not allowed to die, either."

"Ever so romantic, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with amusement, his foolish heart filling with quiet joy. He had _thought_ Anakin loved him--he could sense it--but he had never expected Darth Vader to actually admit such weakness aloud. Hearing him actually say that made something inside him melt, no matter how terrible Anakin's confession was.

He brushed his lips against Anakin's. "Let's go home, dear one."

Anakin's side of the bond filled with vicious pleasure at the endearment. He entwined his fingers with Obi-Wan's and squeezed hard. "Can't wait to get back inside you," he said roughly, pulling Obi-Wan toward the palace.

"You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" Obi-Wan said with a roll of his eyes.

Anakin laughed and tugged him harder, all but jogging toward the palace.

Obi-Wan followed, amused and fond. Sometimes Anakin seemed so young. He was still young. He was just twenty-seven. Sometimes it was easy to forget that.

"How did you find Yoda?" Anakin suddenly said. "Can you find... can you find Ahsoka?"

Obi-Wan looked at him, at the eagerness Anakin tried and failed to hide. Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps." He added gently, "But she might not wish to be found, Anakin."

Anakin's jaw clenched. He held Obi-Wan's hand a little tighter. "But she also might."

"She might," Obi-Wan agreed, looking at the stars.

Ahsoka was somewhere out there. As were little Leia and Luke.

One day, perhaps...

The Force whispered to him that one day they would all be together, but there was no need to rush.

They had all the time in the world, after all.

At times like this, he couldn't believe how much had changed in just a year. A year ago, Anakin was a killing machine that knew only pain, hatred, and suffering, more machine than a man. A year ago, Obi-Wan was a barely living, rapidly aging hermit, who had lost all hope.

Darth Vader and Old Ben now felt like something from a dream. A nightmare.

Now they were young and healthy, their hearts beating in sync with each other once again, their bond stronger than ever. They were _AnakinandObi-Wan_ again.

This peace, this happiness might be selfish, but Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to care.

He had faithfully served the Order and the Republic all his life, he had given and given, denying himself love and personal happiness, and he had lost everything regardless, watching his world burn with the person he loved the most.

This time he would try to be selfish. This time he would hold onto what he loved, and love with all he had.

"Come on, Obi-Wan, it's dawn already," Anakin said, walking faster.

Smiling softly, Obi-Wan allowed Anakin to pull him toward their home, their fingers tangled as tightly as their Force signatures.

The sun was rising.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like I've been writing this story forever. Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts with me! You have been amazing. ❤️ I hope the ending was satisfying.


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